Growing Pains
by amy1oM
Summary: AU: The life of young Frodo Baggins changes forever after his father becomes ill with a mysterious disease...A new chapter has been added
1. Of Fishes And Trouble

Growing Pains  
By Meldewen Ilce   
  
Rating: PG (Drama, Angst)  
Spoilers: FoTR  
  
Summary: The life of young Frodo Baggins changes forever after his father becomes ill with a mysterious disease.  
  
Disclaimer: Of course I do not own the characters of Sam or Frodo or anyone found in Middle Earth but instead they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien! I am just borrowing them both for a bit and NO copyright infringement is intended by the writing or publishing of this story!   
  
Author's Note: This is obviously an AU fanfic as I know that in canon Frodo's parents both drowned when he was 12. This piece is also very pre-LOTR!  
I got all my information about Frodo and everyone else at the following site:   
  
Lastly, I like to claim Marroc Brandybuck, Longo Brandybuck, Berilac Brandybuck, Orgulas Brandybuck, Fosco Brandybuck, and Pansy Brandybuck as all as my own characters. Please do not use them without my prior permission.  
  
Cette histoire est dédié à mon ami Julie . Sentez mieux bientôt! Vous aimer, mon ami! -Amy  
Hannon le, Nana! - Amy  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
1. Of Fishes and Trouble  
  
10 May 1380, S.R.  
Outside of Brandy Hall, Buckland  
  
As the sun sank slowly, an 11-year old Frodo Baggins rose to his feet, pulling his pole's line lazily out of the water. As he stood, he brushed off the back of his pants before he grabbed his fishing line to wrap it around the pole. The last thing he did before he turned to leave was to pick up the bunch of fish he had caught off of the ground. Only when he started to leave did the youngest of his cousin speak up.  
  
"Hey, Frodo, why are you leaving so early for?" Fosco Brandybuck asked in a voice loud enough to cause the others to hiss 'shhhhh!' at him. Fosco merely shrugged in reply setting his pole down on the bank of the Brandywine River before joining Frodo.  
  
Frodo nodded, replying quietly. "Mama told me to be home early tonight. My Uncle Bilbo is coming to visit from Hobbiton and she wants me home early for supper and bed."  
  
At that moment, the voice of Primula Baggins came from the direction of Brandy Hall. "Frodo! It's time to come in now!"  
  
Frodo formed a half-cup with his free hand and shouted, "All right, Mamma! I'll be right there in a minute!" Frodo rolled his eyes again as the other boys said "shhhhhh!" and turning half towards Brandy Hall, he waved and said "Bye! I'll see you fellows tomorrow if I can get away while my uncle is visiting us that is. If not I'll see you when I can!"  
  
Marroc, Longo, Berilac all looked up to wave goodbye to Frodo and say, "Bye, Frodo!"  
  
While only Orgulas not doing the same because he was pre-occupied with getting a fish pulled from the water that had his line taunt. Instead he grudgingly said between clenched teeth, "Bye Frodo!" as he continued to struggle with the fish.  
  
Whistling happily as he walked inside Brandy Hall towards the apartment he shared with his parents, he was unaware that the fish he had caught was dripping dirty water all over the floor. He was stopped in his tracks by the voice of his least favorite older cousin, Pansy.  
  
"Frodo Baggins!" her voice snapped. "You halt right there!"  
  
Suppressing a sigh and the urge to roll his eyes, Frodo turned to look at Pansy and asked in an impatient voice, "What is it, Pansy?"   
  
Now Pansy Brandybuck was one of the oldest children in Brandy Hall, a tweenager, 26 to be exact, and she took pleasure in bossing all the younger children around who hadn't yet reached their teens, let alone their tweens. In secret all the children of every age mocked her, and referred to his as "Her Royal Bossiness, the Princess Pansy".   
  
"Don't you take an impertinent tone of voice with me, Frodo. I won't put up with it," she replied, reaching out to grab his earlobe as though he were a naughty child and she the adult. She pointed down at the trail of water he'd left from the fish. "Do you see that water? I want you to get something and clean it up BEFORE someone slips on it. Do you understand me?" She pulled on his ear when he didn't answer he fast enough.  
  
"Ouch! You're HURTING me!" Frodo exclaimed.  
  
"Do you UNDERSTAND ME?" Pansy repeated.  
  
Frodo attempted to extract his ear from her grip, but she only held on tighter, causing him to shriek, nearly in tears. "Let go of me, Pansy!"  
  
"Do you understand?"   
  
"Yes, I UNDERSTAND!" Frodo yelled. To his relief, she released his earlobe and he rubbed it blinking back tears as he tried to rub the smart out of it. "I'm going to have a bruise there!"  
  
"And you'll be smarting elsewhere if you don't hop to do what I told you to do," Pansy replied.  
  
Frodo looked at her, stunned. "You wouldn't DARE to spank me!"   
  
A storm cloud crossed Pansy's expression as she replied, "Watch me, Frodo Baggins!"  
  
Not wasting another second, Frodo took off running down the hallway of Brandy Hall, hurrying for all he was worth towards the home he shared with his parents, hoping only to reach the safety of his mother's arms before Pansy could make good on her threat... 


	2. Last Second Rescues and Secrets

2. Last Second Rescues and Secrets  
  
"Where do you suppose Frodo is?" Drogo asked as his wife set a cherry pie on the table as again she had set a fine meal and he was famished.   
  
"I don't know. I told him that it was time to come and eat supper. If he doesn't come in another minute I'll go out again and see what's taking him so long," Primula replied. She wiped her hands as she turned back towards the hearth, putting down her towel before she picked up the plate of freshly baked honey-wheat bread. Setting it on the table, she noted that Drogo had pulled back the bandage on his hand that covered a large but shallow cut he had received several weeks ago. "It still hasn't healed yet?"  
  
Drogo jumped and patted the bandage back down on his hand. "No, it hasn't healed yet. I don't understand what the trouble is."  
  
Before Primula could reply, they heard Frodo's voice yell outside the door, "MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! SHE'S TRYING TO HURT ME!"  
  
It only took Primula a split second to open the door to see Pansy stand just a few doors down from theirs. She had pulled Frodo over her knee and was about to swat his backside when Primula halted her hand by tightly grasping her wrist. Pansy looked back into the angry eyes of both Primula and Drogo Baggins.  
  
"You let go of him NOW, Pansy Brandybuck!" Primula said, immediately getting the results she desired when a subdued Pansy released the hobbit-lad. Frodo ran to the safety of his father's arms as Primula, while still holding Pansy, swatted the tweenager's backside.  
  
"OUCH!" the girl exclaimed with surprised tears in her eyes.  
  
Primula leaned over close to her face. "If you EVER try to spank my son again you'll not going to be sitting for a week afterwards."  
  
Pansy's eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"  
  
"Oh wouldn't I, would I?" Primula replied, swatting the girl's backside again. "Just try it and see if I don't tan your backside, Pansy Brandybuck!" She applied one last swat, before she pushed tweenager in the direction of her own home. Looking back at Drogo and Frodo, "I'll be back in a moment. Go ahead - start supper without me."  
  
Drogo nodded, and nudged Frodo back towards the door. "Come on, son."  
  
Primula returned several minutes later to find silence in her family's smial, Drogo eating quietly as Frodo picked at his food. Shaking her head she sat down at the table, Drogo began to pass her dishes so she could fill her plate.  
  
"Well Pansy shouldn't be a problem anymore ," Primula began, "Because I told Daisy what we caught her daughter trying to do to Frodo. She was clearly angry at Pansy and she told me 'it will be taken care of'. I then told her what I said to Pansy and to my surprise she looked at that lass and said 'Make that two weeks she won't be able to sit if I hear she has lain a hand on the backside of your boy!'"  
  
Drogo swallowed his food, nodding. "Well I've always said that your cousin Daisy was reasonable It is beyond me how her oldest turned out to be such a brat when the entire kit-and-caboodle of the rest of her children are usually so sweet!"  
  
Primula nodded, taking a bite, and turning to look at her son. He still wasn't eating all that much, and after she swallowed her food she spoke. "Frodo, honey, you don't have to worry about Pansy trying to do that to you again." Frodo didn't reply, just picked at his food. It was then that she saw that he was holding his right ear in his hand that was propped on the table. "Frodo, honey, what's wrong?"  
  
"My ear hurts," Frodo mumbled.  
  
Drogo put down his fork, wiping his mouth. "Frodo, son, don't mumble. Speak up."  
  
Frodo looked up releasing his earlobe and pointed to it. "My ear hurts!"  
  
Primula jumped up immediately from her seat and knelt by his chair. She brushed his hair back, and examined the blue and purplish lobe. "Frodo, how did this happen?"  
  
"Pansy grabbed my ear! She squeezed it so tight I thought I was going to cry before she let go of me!"  
  
"Come here and let me put some salve on it, and then you can hold a cold rag on it," Primula said. She went to retrieve the salve and in a few seconds she applied some of the healing ointment to Frodo's earlobe. Afterwards, as Frodo ate a piece of cherry pie, he held the cold rag his mother had given to him.  
  
About ten minutes after they finished their meal, there was a knock at the smial's door and Frodo still holding the rag to his ear went over to answer it, revealing on the other side Daisy Brandybuck who stood with a hand griping the shoulder of Pansy. Pansy's face was tear-stained, and Frodo thought he could guess what had happened with her mother.  
  
"Frodo, who is it?" Drogo asked, coming to the door. "Oh, hullo, Daisy."  
  
Daisy nodded. "Mr. Baggins, I brought Pansy because she has something to say to you, your wife, and Frodo here."  
  
Drogo nodded. "Primula, would you come here please?" A second later, she appeared wiping her hands and when she saw Pansy, a sour look immediately crossed her face.  
  
"Go on, Pansy," Daisy ordered.  
  
Pansy stepped forward. "I...I wanted to say that I am sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Baggins for overstepping my boundaries." She went silent after that and Daisy tapped her back.  
  
"Go on, Pansy. Apologize to Frodo," she said. "Now, young lady or your father will hear about this."  
  
With a very sour look, Pansy looked at Frodo. "I-I'm sorry, Frodo."  
  
Primula nodded. "Apology accepted, Pansy. Isn't it, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo was just as reluctant to accept her apology as Pansy was in giving it but one look at his mother told him not to argue. "Yes."  
  
"Good, now that's taken of, sorry we disturbed you. Goodnight, Drogo, Primula, Frodo," Daisy said.  
  
"Goodnight, Daisy," Drogo replied.  
  
They watched Daisy and Pansy leave before they turned to go back inside of their own smial. Frodo watched them disappear around the corner before he closed the door. Not a minute after he shut the door did another knock sound at the door. Drogo reappeared, stopping Frodo from answering it.  
  
"You go get ready for bed, Frodo. I'll see to whoever it is."  
  
"All right, Daddy," Frodo replied, running off towards his room.  
  
When he was gone, Drogo opened the door, and found Fosco standing on the other side holding a fine bunch of trout in his left hand. Drogo smiled as Fosco held out the fish to him.  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Baggins, but I think Frodo somehow dropped his fish when he came home tonight," he said.  
  
Drogo took them. "Thank you, Fosco. Since Frodo is getting ready for bed, I'll tell him you brought these by for you."  
  
Fosco nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Baggins. I gotta get home anyway as my ma told me not to stay any longer than it takes to drop off Frodo's fish. Tell Frodo I'll see him tomorrow, would you?"  
  
"I'll give him the message though it maybe a few days before you see him again, Fosco. We have company arriving from Hobbiton tomorrow and Frodo will be spending most of the day with us," Drogo said.  
  
"Oh yes! I forgot that your Uncle Bilbo was coming from Hobbiton tomorrow! Well just tell Frodo I'll see him whenever he's free, would ya, Mr. Baggins?"  
"Of course, Fosco, I'll tell him."  
  
"Thank you! Goodnight, Mr. Baggins!" Fosco said dashing off.  
  
"Goodnight, Fosco," Drogo replied, closing the door with fish in hand.   
  
"Was that Fosco at the door?" Primula asked.  
  
Drogo nodded, showing her the fish. "It seems Frodo lost these at some point on his way home from the river."  
  
At that moment, Frodo returned from his room, dressed now in his nightshirt instead of his play clothes. His father held up the fish to him.  
  
"Oh I forgot about those!" Frodo said.  
  
"How did you lose these, son, between the River and home?" Drogo asked.  
  
"I lost them when I ran from Pansy. That's why she was trying to boss me around in the first place because the fish were dripping water onto the floor. But I didn't realize that until she stopped me," Frodo answered. "I must have dropped them when she threatened to spank me."  
  
"I see. She was right about the water you know. You should have cleaned up the water these fish were dripping," Drogo said.  
  
"Daddy!"  
  
"Let me finish, son. Pansy was right about the water but she was wrong to threaten you with a spanking if you didn't obey her. She might be close to being an adult but she's not come of age yet and she has no right to treat you or any other hobbit child in such a way."  
  
"I agree. You tell us if she EVER threatens you again, Frodo," Primula said, kissing his head.   
  
"Yes, Mama. I love you."  
  
"Love you too, honey," she replied. "Now let me take care of those fish and you get yourself to bed."  
  
Frodo hugged her and then he hugged his father. "Goodnight, Daddy. I love you."  
  
"I love you too, son."  
  
"Sweet dreams, honey," Primula added as he disappeared down the hallway.  
  
***  
About an hour after he went to bed, Frodo rolled over in his sleep, waking up to find a lamp's glow still coming from the smial's living room. Taking a deep breath, he smelled his father's pipe burning and if he listened carefully he could hear the voices of his parents still talking.  
  
"I want you to go see the healer, Drogo," Primula's worried voice filtered through to his ears.   
  
"Why, Prim? It's just a cut that's been stubborn about healing, that's all," Drogo replied. "Why should I bother Doc Gentlewinter over something so small?"  
"That cut should have healed by now, and you know it," Primula replied with a sigh. "Drogo, it's not only the cut that worries me but the fact that you get so tired easily anymore! Why I remember when you could chase Frodo around until he ran out of breath and then you'd both tumble to the ground, laughing as you tickled him. Now it's all you can do now to help them in the fields, still come home, and stay awake long enough to eat your supper with us."  
  
"Prim-"  
  
"Please, Drogo, if not for yourself then promise me you'll go see the doctor for me...and for our son." Primula had moved to sit on Drogo's lap by now, her eyes pleading with him.  
  
Drogo sighed, laying his pipe aside before running a hand through his hand, and nodding, "All right, I'll do it."  
  
"Thank you, love," Primula said, and she kissed him.  
  
"I'll go see Doc Gentlewinter AFTER Uncle Bilbo returns home and not a moment before. Okay?" Drogo said.  
  
Primula thought for a moment and nodded. "Just as long as you promise to go after Bilbo leaves, I won't say another word about it."  
  
"I promise, Prim," Drogo said yawning. "Now, let's go to bed shall we?" 


	3. Bilbo's Arrival

3. Bilbo's Arrival  
  
11 May 1380 S.R.  
Baggins Residence  
  
The Baggins household was up early the next morning to finish last minute preparations for Bilbo's arrival, which wasn't expected to just before dinnertime. After breakfast, Drogo left to go help in the fields while Frodo helped his mother finish cleaning the set of rooms that were next door to their smial. These rooms had been especially reserved for Bilbo whenever he might visit Brandy Hall Primula and Frodo had just stopped for second breakfast when they heard a familiar voice coming from just outside the door of their home.   
  
"Hello? Drogo? Primula? Are you home?"  
  
Before Primula can get up Frodo had flown from the table to the door, and had opened it. "Uncle Bilbo!" he exclaimed, as he hurried into the open arms of the older hobbit. After hugging Frodo, Bilbo reached out to hug the astonished Primula.   
  
"How are you, Primula?" Bilbo asked.  
  
"I'm well, uncle," Primula answered getting over her shock. "Uncle, we weren't expecting you until around dinner time! Please come in and have second breakfast with us."   
  
"Yes, thank you, dear Primula, I am famished," Bilbo said following her and Frodo back inside. As Primula began to make a plate of food, Bilbo continued to relay the reason for his early arrival. "And I would have arrived around dinnertime had I left Bag End at first light this morning. However, I left there around midnight last night as I couldn't resist travelling during the night with the beautiful starlight sky," Bilbo replied.  
  
"Uncle!" Primula said, "You traveled at night?"   
  
Bilbo nodded. "Yes, I did, my dear. And what may I ask is wrong with that? I often go walking at night to stargaze."  
  
"But aren't there dangerous animals roaming about the Shire at night, uncle?" Frodo piped in between his bites of biscuits and bacon.  
  
"Frodo, don't talk with your mouth full!" Primula said.  
  
Frodo swallowed his food. "Sorry, Mamma."  
  
Accepting his plate from Primula, Bilbo looked at his young 'nephew'. "No, my boy, there are not any dangerous animals roaming about the Shire. That's only a story the so-called respectful, but snobbish hobbits made up to keep folks inside at night when they should be out and about enjoying the handiwork of Elbereth."  
  
"Uncle!" Primula said in surprise. "It is not a story that was made up to keep people inside at night. The world can be very dangerous, especially at night when all the dark, evil creatures roam from the Black Land."  
  
Bilbo sighed. "You're right, Primula my dear. I just hate it when people allow their fear of the night to rule their lives and keep them from enjoying the beautiful world that Eru has given us all."  
  
Several moments of silence followed as the three of them finished second breakfast. Afterwards, Primula insisted that Bilbo rest until it was time for Elevensies when she'd send Frodo to get his father. After seeing to Bilbo's comfort, who had settled down near the hearth with the latest Elven book he was working on translating, Bilbo bided them farewell until it was time for Elevensies.  
  
He hadn't meant to nod off to sleep but the next thing Bilbo knew, he was awakened by a young one's voice asking a question.  
  
"Who's EL-BEAR-ETH?" Frodo's voice asked.  
  
Bilbo's eyes snapped open and for a moment he had forgotten where he was. The book he had been reading was laid face down open on his chest and one of his arms hang limply along his side. Sitting up he closed the book and laid it on the nearby table, looking at Frodo as a yawn slipped out.  
  
"When did you sneak in, Frodo?" Bilbo asked.  
  
"A few minutes ago - Mamma let me go after I finished helping her."  
  
"She sent you to catch an old hobbit taking an unexpected nap, ehh?"  
  
"Uh, no, uncle. Actually she told me not to wake you if you were asleep," Frodo replied. "I'm sorry that I did."  
  
"That's all right, Frodo, I really wasn't sleeping but dozing!" Bilbo said. "Now, what was it you asked me just now? I didn't quite hear your question."  
  
"I asked you who EL-BEAR-ETH is."  
  
Bilbo smiled. "I think you mean Elbereth, my lad."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Elbereth is the name given to Varda, the Queen of Arda or Middle-Earth, by the Elves. Elbereth means 'Star-Lady' in their language, she is one of the Valar," Bilbo answered.  
  
"The Valar?"  
  
The door opened again and in walked Primula. "Frodo, I thought I told you to run and get your father."  
  
"You did, Mamma. I had to ask Uncle Bilbo something."  
  
"Have you asked him whatever it is you wanted to ask him?"  
  
"Yes, Mama."  
  
"Then be off now and get your father. We'll be sitting down to have Elevensies and I don't think he'd want to miss another minute with your Uncle Bilbo," Primula said as she began to prepare the next meal of the day.  
  
Bilbo patted Frodo on the shoulder. "Go on and do as your Mother says. We'll talk more later and I promise to tell you all about Elbereth and the Valar. Now off with you."  
Go To:   
¦ Chapter 4 ¦ Chapter 5 ¦ Chapter 6 ¦ Chapter 7 ¦ Chapter 8 ¦ Chapter 9 ¦ Chapter 10 ¦ Chapter 11 ¦ Chapter 12 ¦ Chapter 13 ¦   
¦ Chapter 14 ¦ Chapter 15 ¦ Chapter 16 ¦ Chapter 17 ¦ Chapter 18 ¦ Chapter 19 ¦ Chapter 20 ¦ 


	4. Stargazing Lesson

~~*~~

****

4. Stargazing Lesson

It was half an hour after supper when Bilbo took Frodo outside to gaze at the nighttime sky. The sky had just become black velvet when they stepped outside and had just begun to fill with the silvery pinpoints that were the most beloved by Ilúvatar's Firstborn Children, the Elves.

After they had spread an old blanket Primula had provided for them, Bilbo settled comfortably on his back. He invited Frodo to lay close beside him, and use his shoulder for a pillow. For a moment, they simply laid there in silence, gazing at the black velvety sky.

'Uncle, tell me about the Valar and Elbereth,' Frodo said in a hushed voice.

'The Valar, my boy, are the Fourteen beings that are the King, Lords, and Queens of Arda. They, like us, are all creations of Ilúvatar and they were sent to our world to shape it according to the Vision of Ilúvatar.'

'What does _Arda_ mean?' Frodo asked.

'It means _Realm of Manwë_ in the Elven tongue. It's just another name for Middle Earth, my boy.'

'Oh.'

'Now of the Valar - First of all, there is Manwë Súlimo, the High King of Arda, Lord of the Breath of Arda, and Lord of the West - he is the greatest of the Valar. And there is Varda Elentári, the Queen of Arda, the Star-Queen, Star-Lady, the Kindler of the Stars. She is the most beloved of any of the Valar by the Elves because it was she who kindled the brightest stars in the heavens. It is often she the Elves call upon when they are in distress and it is to she they have written a hymn, or song, for. Would you like to hear it?'

'Yes please, uncle.' Frodo replied.

Bilbo cleared his throat and after he moved Frodo off of his shoulder, he sat up to take a deep breath. In a low melodic voice he began to sing the Elvish hymn to Elbereth:

****

A Elbereth Gilthoniel,   
Silivren penna míriel  
O menel aglar elenath!  
Na-chaered palan-díriel  
O galadhremmin ennorath,   
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
Nef aear, sí nef aearon!

Frodo, who had also sat up, sat with his eyes closed as Bilbo sang the hymn in a tongue Frodo had never heard before. When he had finished, Frodo opened his eyes and Bilbo saw tears in them.

'Even though I couldn't understand the words, that song was beautiful, uncle,' Frodo said

'Please tell me, uncle, what the words mean?'

Bilbo smiled, and patted his shoulder. 'Someday, my boy, I hope to teach you the language of that particular song, which incidentally is called Sindarin. And when I have taught you Sindarin, you may translate the words to the hymn yourself.' At this, Bilbo invited him to lay back down on the blanket so that they could resume stargazing.

It was sometime later, after Bilbo had finished telling him about the Valar that Frodo pointed to the brightest star he saw in the sky and said, 'What's that star, uncle?' 

'That, my boy, is Eärendil,' Bilbo answered. 'It is the star that is most precious to the Elves.' Frodo attempted to repeat the new name without much success and Bilbo spent a moment helping him to master the Elvish name before he moved on with the lesson.

'Eärendil, who was only half Elven because his father was of the race of Men, was also the greatest mariner to ever live in the history of Middle Earth. It was through his help and courage that the first Dark Lord of Middle Earth, Melkor, was defeated. For Eärendil sought to find a way to the land where the Valar dwelt which is called Aman but the way was hidden from mortal Men...'

Frodo was enthralled with the telling of the tale of Eärendil the Mariner, listening quietly as Bilbo told him of the escape of Eärendil's wife from the clutches of Melkor. He listened awestruck when Bilbo recounted the part where Elwing flew to her husband's ship as a white sea-bird bearing the magnificent jewel known as the Silmaril on her breast.

'It was through the power of the jewel, and his courage that Eärendil was able to at last find the Straight Road to Aman.'

Bilbo was about to continue with the lesson when Drogo came walking up with a lantern in his hands.

'Forgive the interruption,' he began, 'But I think it's time that Frodo was off to bed.'

'Awwww, Daddy! We were having fun!' Frodo moaned.

'Hold on, my lad,' Bilbo said, looking at his eldest nephew, 'Just what time is it, Drogo?'

'A little past ten o'clock,' Drogo replied.

'A little past ten? Good heavens! Have we really been out here that long, Drogo?' Bilbo said.

'I'm afraid so, uncle.'

'Well then, Frodo, it is time we were going inside. And before you start sulking, young man, I promise you we'll come back outside tomorrow night to do some more stargazing,' Bilbo said.

'Will you tell me more Elves' stories about the stars, uncle?' Frodo asked.

"Of course, I will,' Bilbo promised. 'Now, let's get up from here and get on inside.'

Drogo and Frodo helped Bilbo to get to his feet before the three of them headed back inside of the smial.

***

****

Translation of A Elbereth Gilthoniel:

O Elbereth Star-kindler

(white) glittering slants down sparkling like jewels

From [the] firmament [the] glory [of] the star-host!

To-remote distance far-having gazed

From [the] tree-tangled middle-lands,

Fanuilos, to thee I will chant

On this side of ocean, here on this side of the Great Ocean!


	5. A Nephew's Stubborness

~~*~~

****

5. A Nephew's Stubborness

12 May 1380 S.R.

The next morning after second breakfast, Primula packed a basketful of sandwiches, fresh mushrooms, and cherry tarts. Today, the family would be sharing elevensies as well as lunch by the Brandywine River. It only took a few minutes for them to walk outside of Brandy Hall, and for Primula to set up a comfortable spot for them underneath an oak tree.

As she sat down on the blanket, she began to unload the food from the basket. She glanced up every now and again to watch Frodo, Drogo, and Bilbo toss a medium sized ball back and forth. She smiled as she knew that for as long as he was visiting, Bilbo's time would be either monopolized by Drogo or Frodo as both adored the older cousin they both called "uncle".

After arranging the food, Primula sat back on the blanket, not calling her family to the meal yet as to allow them time to play and enjoy one another's company. About fifteen minutes into the game, Frodo had thrown the ball past Drogo, and just turned his back to retrieve it, Frodo charged his father, latching on to his father's waist.

Drogo managed to retrieve the ball from the river reeds where it had rolled to, tossing it back to Bilbo before he turned to tickle his son whose attachment by now had slid down to Drogo's legs. Frodo howled with laughter as he fell completely to the ground, his father kneeling beside him, tickling him in an almost frenzy.

'Do you surrender, my little scamp?' Drogo asked, laughing himself.

Tears rolled down his face and his face turned red from laughter but Frodo refused to surrender. 'N...nnnn...NO!'

Drogo looked up at Bilbo, 'Come, uncle, lend me a hand in getting this little scamp's surrender!'

Bilbo laughed and shook his head, "I think not, Drogo, this is one battle you'll have to win yourself.' By now, he had joined Primula on the blanket, and he was sipping on a cup still warm tea as they awaited his silly nephews' presence.

Finally Frodo could take no more of his father's tickling; "I surrender!"

With a satisfied smile, Drogo helped his son up, taking a moment to take deep breath of his own as Frodo ran towards the tree where elevensies awaited them. Drogo's pace joining them was slower than usual and when he sat down beside her, Primula gave him a worried glance.

***

Later, when Frodo and Bilbo were occupied talking down by the Brandywine, Primula noted his pale and tired Drogo still seemed. Shortly after elevensies ended, he had laid back against the oak, declining his son's invitation to the river.

Primula waited until Frodo and Bilbo were out of earshot before she spoke quietly to Drogo, who laid with his eyes closed. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes, I'm fine.' Drogo answered, opening his sea blue eyes.

'Are you sure?' Primula persisted, touching his brow.

Drogo caught her hand with his own, bringing it to his lips. 'I'm sure, Prim. Stop worrying so much.'

***

After lunch, the three adults returned home while Frodo was given approval to spend sometime with his cousins. When they returned home, Drogo went to take a nap while Primula and Bilbo settled in by the hearth. Bilbo pulled out his pipe and began to smoke while Primula worked on repairing a hole in a pair of Frodo's pants.

'Primula,' Bilbo began after a long time of silence, 'Is Drogo all right?'

Primula didn't look up as she replied, 'Of course, Bilbo. Why do you ask?'

'I don't know...it's just he seemed a bit washed out earlier after running and playing with Frodo. Now at my age, it's expected that I might be tired after playing with a hobbit-lad Frodo's age but since Drogo's so much young-'

'Drogo's fine, uncle!' Primula said, and when Bilbo looked at her skeptically she continued, 'Well it's just that I don't think he slept too well, not with the excitement of you being here and all!'

'Hmmmph...' Bilbo replied, and said not another word as he resumed smoking his pipe.

***

On the second night of their stargazing lesson, Frodo seemed more distracted and less interested in what Bilbo was telling him about. Much to everyone's surprise Drogo had slept right through the last two meals of the day, begging everyone's leave as he said he was "fatigued". And before Bilbo could say a word of concern about this to Primula, Frodo had asked if they were going to continue with their stargazing lesson.

'Frodo,' Bilbo said finally sitting up, 'Is something bothering you, my boy? I ask because you're not paying all that much attention to what I am saying at all.'

Frodo looked up at him, "Sorry, uncle.'

Bilbo's eyes widened with concern as it was apparent something was bothering the child. 'Frodo, is something troubling you, lad?' He waited for Frodo to answer and when he got none he said, 'It's all right, Frodo, you can tell me if something's wrong. You can trust your old uncle.'

Tears were in Frodo's eyes as he spoke, 'Uncle, I'm worried about Daddy. Lately he doesn't seem like himself.'

'Can you give me some examples, lad?'

'I mean like this morning when he got so tired after he chased and tickled me, I got scared when I saw how he looked,' Frodo said. 'Uncle Bilbo, Daddy looked like a sheet on my bed!'

Bilbo nodded, 'Anything else?'

Frodo nodded. 'The night before you arrived, I was in bed and I heard Mamma and Daddy talking. They were talking about the cut on his hand and Mamma said something about how the cut should have healed weeks ago!' Bilbo was silent as he thought for a moment before he spoke, thinking of a coarse of action to take.

'Frodo, if you'll go onto to bed when we head inside, I'll talk to your father about going to see a healer first thing in the morning.'

'All right, uncle,' Frodo promised.

'That's a good, lad. Now help me up from here.'

***

****

13 May 1380 S.R.

The next morning before Frodo had made his appearance, Bilbo asked if he could have the attention of Drogo and Primula for a moment. Wondering what the older hobbit wanted, they sat down at the table with him, locking hands on the table's surface as they waited for him to speak.

Sighing Bilbo began; noting that Drogo's bandaged hand was hidden. 'I hate to be discussing anything serious so early in my visit but Drogo, Primula, it's come to my attention that one of you might be seriously ill.'

'Uncle, neither of us is ill,' Drogo replied.

'Oh really?' Bilbo said, arching an eyebrow, Well, Drogo, my boy - it's also been brought to my attention that you've got a cut that refuses to heal and that you're refusing to go see a healer about it.'

Drogo looked at his wife, 'You promised you wouldn't bring this up while Bilbo was here!'

'It wasn't Primula who brought this to my attention, nephew. It was Frodo,' Bilbo said, 'And before you think of asking how the lad knew something was wrong, Frodo told me last night that he overheard you both talking about this the eve of my arrival while he was in bed.'

An annoyed look crossed Drogo's face. 'I think I shall have a talk with Frodo about eavesdropping on other people's conversations.'

'Now, Drogo, before you go getting all upset with the lad, just remember he was in bed at the time he heard you talking. He told me he couldn't sleep that night. Drogo, he's worried about you, especially since he saw how tired you got yesterday. If you won't go see the healer for me, or Primula, or yourself, then go for the sake of your son's peace of mind,' Bilbo said.

Drogo sighed, his gaze dropping to the bandage on his hand, 'All right, I'll go see Dr. Gentlewinter today after luncheon. I promise.'

At that moment, Frodo ran into the room and running straight for Drogo, he hugged his father's neck. 'Thank you, Daddy!'

Drogo smiled, "You're welcome, son!'


	6. Prognosis

***

****

6. Prognosis

Just as he had promised, Drogo went to see Dr. Gentlewinter after lunch. Primula went with him while Bilbo stayed behind with Frodo in the smial, keeping his young nephew occupied with tales of his adventure from years ago.

'...So there I was trapped in a dark cavern with no visible way out and I had that Gollum creature there before me, threatening to eat me if I couldn't answer his riddles,' Bilbo said.

Frodo was wide-eyed with excitement, 'How did you get away, uncle?'

'Well you'll remember that the deal with Gollum was if I answered his riddles, he wouldn't eat me but if he failed to answer one of mine then he HAD to show me a way out of that blasted cavern. Well we traded riddles back and forth, and there was a time I was beginning to think I'd run out of riddles before he'd be stumped or I feared, he'd tell me a riddle I couldn't answer.'

Bilbo paused for dramatic effect, and he smiled when Frodo said, 'Go on please!'

However, at that moment, the door to the apartments opened up and in walked Frodo's parents into the smial. The tale suddenly forgotten, Frodo ran over to his father to get a hug even as Primula headed into the kitchen to occupy herself with some sort of chore or another.

'What did the healer say?' Bilbo asked.

Drogo didn't answer, and the older hobbit saw the grim look on his nephew's face. Looking down at his son, Drogo said, 'Frodo, go help your mother.' For a moment, both hobbits thought the lad would protest but after a moment he merely nodded.

'Yes, Daddy.'

Drogo watched him go to his mother before he picked up his pipe. Glancing to his uncle, and then to the kitchen, he called out to Primula, 'We're going for a walk outside, Prim. We'll be back soon for dinner.'

Trying to keep a brave face for her son, Prim nodded. 'All right, Drogo, don't be too late.'

***

Bilbo followed his nephew out of Brandy Hall without speaking a word, and he waited patiently once they were outside as Drogo lit his pipe. When they reached the Brandywine, Drogo blew out a smoke ring before he finally looked at Bilbo.

'I'm dying, uncle,' he said quietly.

Bilbo who had been inhaling from his own pipe nearly choked on the smoke and Drogo had to pat him on the back for several moments before he could speak. Wiping tears from his eyes, Bilbo stared at Drogo unable to believe his ears.

'W-what?' he asked between coughs. 'The healer told you that you were dying?'

Drogo nodded. 'Yes.'

'How by the Valar does he know that for certain?'

'He knows, Bilbo, because he has had two other cases similar to mine. Both of his patients had similar symptoms as mine, and they both died within a year of his prognosis,' Drogo replied.

Tears of grief filled Bilbo's eyes now as he gazed on his nephew's face, 'Did he say that there is anything he can do to help you?'

Drogo sighed. 'He said that there is very little he can do. He can help me if there is pain but other than that he said there is nothing to be done.'

'Hmmmph,' Bilbo said, 'Well maybe there's nothing he can do but maybe there's hope in Elvish medicine. Maybe if I contacted the Elves-'

'Bilbo, please! There are NO Elves around these parts for miles! You've said so yourself their closest settlement to the Shire is Rivendell, which is leagues away from here. Why the journey alone to reach Rivendell would sap my strength and it would rob me of the little remaining precious time I have left to spend with my family. Plus, there's no way of knowing if their medicine could help or heal me once we've reached Rivendell. I'm sorry, uncle, but I cannot, will not seek the help of the Elves,' Drogo said.

Bilbo said nothing to him in reply for a moment, gazing instead out at the Brandywine, tears running down his face as he blew out smoke. He spoke after a long moment, his voice rough with grief, 'Well if there is nothing else to be done, you, Primula, and Frodo must all return with me to Bag End.

And please before you argue with me, Drogo, let me just say what I have to say. I want you to come to Bag End because you're all the family I've got, and please don't you mention the Sackville-Bagginses. They're distant relations and I don't count them, not really because they've ALWAYS just wanted Bag End and not me.

It's you, and Primula, and Frodo I have always counted to be my family. To be honest, my boy, having you and Frodo in my life - well you are both are the closest I've ever come to having children of my own. I love you all more than you could ever know which is why I want you to come home with me. I want you to spend your last days in a peaceful, quiet home instead of this place that us more hustle and bustle than a thousand Dwarves' voices raised in song! Please say you'll come home with me?'


	7. Bag End

~~*~~

****

8. Bag End

14 May 1380 S.R.

The Sun had long ago sought her bed by the time Bilbo tugged on the reins to halt. The grey pony had pulled the trap all the way from Brandy Hall1 and it had been a long ten hour trip from Buckland to Bag End. As they disembarked the pony-trap, the weary travelers stretched their arms and legs, each stifling a yawn. 

Then as Drogo moved to unhitch the pony, Bilbo shooed him away, "I'll see to him. You go on inside."

"Now, uncle, don't be absurd," Drogo said. He walked to the opposite side of the pony from Bilbo and loosening a fastening and he added, "I'm not bedridden yet."

Bilbo decided not to waste any further energy arguing with Drogo, and instead went around to the back of the trap to awaken Primula and Frodo. A few hours ago both of them had fallen asleep, Primula holding Frodo so he wouldn't be jostling to and fro, even as she slept leaning against the cart's side.

Bilbo touched Primula's arm first, 'Primula-dear, we've arrived. We're at Bag End."

Primula opened her eyes, rubbed them briefly, and she looked down at Frodo. Pushing back a stray lock of his hair from his face, she looked up again at Bilbo. 'Where's Drogo?'

'Settling the pony down in the pen at the bottom of the Hill for the night,' Bilbo replied.

"Uncle!' Primula fussed in a low whisper as to not to awake Frodo, 'He's in no condition to be doing such!'

Bilbo nodded, 'I agree, but trying to get my nephew to go along with such is like trying to get a Dwarf to pluck off his beard...neither are very likely to happen anyime in the 3rd Age!' 

As he spoke he helped Primula to get out from the still sleeping hobbit-lad by holding him still as she climbed out of the cart. After a quick stretch, Primula scooped up the sleeping hobbit-lad into her arms, and then followed Bilbo into a dark Bag End.


	8. The Gardener's Son

~~*~~

****

9. The Gardener's Son

15 May 1380 S.R.

Frodo awakened to the distinct scent of bacon being prepared, groaning audibly when he saw the position of the Sun through the room's open window. The Sun gave her silent testimony in the fact the hobbit-lad had missed first breakfast and if he didn't hurry, he thought, he would miss second breakfast too.

Pushing back his quilt, Frodo placed his feet on the floor and got out of the bed, stretching as he searched for his clothes. The journey here from Brandy Hall had been exhausting, and the fact he remembered little about the previous night proved it. He could hardly recall their arrival to Bag End and he recalled even less of how he got changed into his nightshirt before being deposited into the warm, soft bed in his own room for the night.

As he pulled on a clean pair of brown breeches and light blue shirt, Frodo heard the peculiar sound of _Snip! Snip! Snip!_ just outside of his window. Inclining his ear, he listened further, and he could hear someone humming softly, a tune he vaguely recognized as being a favorite for dancing among the adults at Brandy Hall. 

Finally the 'snipping' stopped, Frodo decided to climb up into a chair to investigate and see who was outside of his window. Pulling a chair over to the window seal, he at first didn't see anyone outside. It wasn't until he leaned over the windowpane that he saw a hobbit-lad he guessed to be around his age. But all Frodo could seem of him was the curls atop his sandy-brown as he was on his knees, grass shears in hand quite absently clipping away at the grass beneath the window

Deciding that he wanted a better look at the hobbit working below him, Frodo cleared his throat. The sudden, unexpected noise startled the young hobbit, and in all his days, Frodo had never seen anyone move, nor disappear as fast as the lad did within the next few seconds. 

The hobbit looked up and jumped visibly when he saw Frodo looking down at him. Quickly he roses, brushing the patched knees of his mud brown breeches, muttering apologies only half of which Frodo caught.

'Beggin' your pardon, young master. No one told me that Mr. Bilbo was entertaining guests. I'm sorry if I woke you,' he said. He began to slowly back away from the window as though Frodo were some king and he a lowly servant who had disturbed a master whose presence he was unworthy to be in. 'Though I must say it is a queer hour to be still asleep.' With that last impertinent statement, the hobbit-lad disappeared around the Hill and Frodo wondered who he was and whether or not Bilbo knew he was working on his property.

At that moment, the door opened and Primula walked in, 'Ah, you're up! Good!' She walked over to the window where her son was still staring after the strange hobbit-lad. 'Frodo?'

Frodo looked at her. 'There was another hobbit outside my window, trimming the grass when I woke up.'

'Where is he now?'

"I startled him, Mama. I didn't mean to. He ran off around the corner. Who do you think he is?'

'He probably Bilbo's gardener,' Primula said, extending her hand. 'But never you mind you him. Come and have your first breakfast though for everyone else it'll be second.'

'All right,' Frodo climbed down from the window and as soon as his feet hit the floor he asked Primula, 'Can I ask Bilbo who that hobbit was?'

'_'May I, May I...'_ ask Bilbo who the hobbit was and yes you _may_.'

***

After second breakfast was completed, Bilbo invited Frodo to sit outside with him while he smoked his pipe. Once they'd settled on the front stoop, Frodo described the hobbit he had seen earlier to Bilbo. Bilbo smiled as he lit his pipe, inhaling and exhaling a satisfying puff of Old Toby before answering his nephew.

'I had intended on introducing you to Sam Gamgee later on today but from the sound of it, you meet him this morning,' Bilbo said, taking another huff of his pipe.

'But, uncle, **who** is he? Does he work for you?'

'Samwise Gamgee is the son of Hamfast Gamgee, my gardener. Sam doesn't directly work for me, you see, not yet anyway. He's loves all things that grow and he's been coming to help his Gaffer do the work in the garden since he was knee high to a grasshopper. Sam's a very sensible lad who knows his way around Hobbiton and if you'd like someone to show you around, I'll introduce you to him later today after he's finished with his work.'

Frodo nodded. 'All right.'

~~*~~

****

Author's Note: As you noted in the last chapter, Sam is about 10 years old in this story. I had to make him only a few years younger than Frodo in order to make this story work. 

Also, I would like to thank all the readers of this story and say to them that by the time this fic is finished I may have altered several elements to make them different from the canon LOTR and this is also my only warning to Tolkien purists that even more changes to what Tolkien established...


	9. Introductions

~~*~~

****

10. Introductions

It was sometime after lunch that Bilbo finally pulled Frodo away from helping his mother unpack. He led him around to the back of the smial to where the gardener and his son had just finished tending to the nearly ripen tomatoes.

Hamfast Gamgee, known throughout Hobbiton as the Gaffer, stood up at their approach and motioned to his son to do likewise. The same hobbit-lad Frodo had encountered outside of his bedroom window now stood beside his father wiping his hands with a handkerchief that he shoved in his pocket after he had finished with it.

'How are they coming along, Master Hamfast?' Bilbo inquired, pointing at the tomatoes.

'They're nearly ripe, Mr. Bilbo. I'd say give 'em another week on the vine and they'll be ready for the picking anytime you please,' the Gaffer replied.

'Splendid! I'll look forward to next week then,' Bilbo said. He cleared his throat and laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder to urge him to step forward, 'Uh, Gaffer, the reason I came outside was not to check on the progress of the tomatoes but because I wished to introduce my nephew Frodo to your Samwise. Frodo and his parents, Drogo and Primula, have just moved here from Buckland for personal reasons. Anyway, Frodo is not as familiar with these parts as I'd like for him to be, with your permission, and yours too young Samwise, I'd like for your son to act as Frodo's guide until he learns his way around Hobbiton.'

'Of course my Sam will be happy to show young Mr. Frodo around, won't you, lad?' Hamfast said.

All eyes fell onto Sam and the hobbit nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

'In that case...Frodo-lad, I'd like you to meet Samwise Gamgee,' Bilbo said.


	10. The Tickles That Bind

~~*~~

****

11. The Tickles That Bind

As the two teenaged hobbits walked down the lane of the Hill, Sam spoke when they were out of earshot, 'Thank you kindly, Mr. Frodo, for not mentioning the impertinent thing I said to my Gaffer. He would have scolded me for sayin' such a thing to one of Mr. Bilbo's guests.'

Frodo smiled at the gardener's son, 'First things first, Sam, we're practically the same age as I understand it from what Bilbo told me so no more of this _Mr. Frodo_ nonsense, alright?'

Sam nodded, 'Whatever you say, Mr. - er Frodo.'

They'd reached the bottom of the Hill sometime ago, and Frodo reached down to pick up the stick he was just about to walk by. 'Secondly, Sam, I didn't find what you said all that impertinent. Yes, I was surprised by your observation but I think I was even more surprised by finding you outside my window then anything else.'

Again Sam nodded, 'Well thank you just the same, Frodo. So where would you like for me to take you first?'

Frodo shrugged. 'Where do the other children go to play?'

'Oh there's Old Farmer Chubb's fields where many of the children around these parts go to play. I don't because anytime he catches any of us on his farm he thinks we're trying to steal some of his prized mushrooms. He's been known to tan a few backsides, if you follow me, and then he tells your parents that you were stealin' when you really weren't and you're libel to get tanning on top of the one he's given you!'

'Have you ever been fishing, Sam?' Frodo asked.

'Fishing?' Sam asked, 'Can't says I ever have.'

'What about swimming?'

Sam froze in his tracks to shoot Frodo a surprised look, 'Certainly not, Mr. Frodo!'

At the slip of his newfound friend's tongue, Frodo dropped the stick onto a soft tuft of grass on the road's side, and grabbing the younger hobbit-lad he wrestled him to the ground. Before Frodo realized it however, Sam had pinned him to the ground laughing as he began to tickle the older lad.

Frodo was laughing so hard he could hardly catch his breath to say, 'Y-y-you...w-w-w-win!'

Sam smiled mischievously at him, 'I win _what_?' When Frodo didn't answer him but instead tried to wiggle out from under him, Sam tickled even harder. 'I win _what_, Mr. Frodo?' He let up a second to allow Frodo to catch his breath, and to speak his concession.

'You...can...call...me "Mr. Frodo"' Frodo said, and sat up when Sam got off of him. Wiping his eyes free of his tears of mirth, he stared in astonishment at Sam, 'Where on Middle-Earth did you learn how to wrestle like that, Samwise Gamgee?'

Sam grinned, 'From me older brother Hamson and my Gaffer, of course!'

'Well, remind me never to take you on again unless I am willing to be tickled within an inch of my life!' Frodo said with a laugh.

'Aye, Mr. Frodo, I will!'


	11. The ABC's of Trouble

**5 June 1380**** S.R.**

In the following weeks, Frodo and Sam had fallen into an easy routine: First Sam would help out his father with the gardening work and would be occupied with this until after lunch. Then Hamfast would dismiss his son for the rest of the day so that he could spend time with Frodo playing or whatever it was the lads did everyday.

On this particular day in the late summer, Sam reluctantly had to inform Frodo that he would be more than an hour later in being dismissed from his work in the gardens. And so after he returned from running an errand for his mother into Hobbiton to buy some spices she wanted for meat pie she was making, Frodo ventured into Bilbo's study.

Bilbo looked up from the parchment he was carefully writing on and offered his glum nephew a smile. 'Sam can't spend time with you today, my boy?'

Frodo shook his head; 'He told me he'd have to help his father in the garden today for an extra hour, maybe two.'

'I see,' said Bilbo, noting that Frodo was circling his study. He allowed for a minute of silence before he spoke again. 'Frodo-lad, are you searching for something to do? If so I could ask Primula if she needs you -'

Frodo's eyes widened, and vehemently shaking his head, 'Oh no, uncle, I was - just going to ask you if there's some places in Hobbiton to go swimming.'

'Oh I think there are some brooks and streams here and there. But there's nothing so grand as the Brandywine to be found here. Why don't you ask Sam to take you to some of them after he's finished with his father?' 

Frodo nodded, 'Good idea.'

Bilbo halfway returned his attention to the parchment before him, noting with much amusement that Frodo was still in the room, giving his selection of books a once over, followed closely by a twice and third look over. Putting down his quill again, Bilbo turned to Frodo fully, an amused smile lighting his features.

'Frodo would you like a book to take outside with you to read?' he asked, startling the youngster out of his distracted thoughts.

Frodo looked at him, 'May I?'

'Of course, my boy. You may take any book in this room with you as long as you return it when you come back inside. And,' Bilbo pointed to a shelf in the study's right corner, 'As long as you don't take any books from that shelf.' 

'Why?'

Bilbo got up from his chair and walked over to where Frodo was standing, laying a hand on his shoulder as he spoke, 'Well because most of those books are on loan to me by Lord Elrond of Rivendell.' 

Frodo's eyes widened. 'Oh.'

'Yes, oh indeed, Frodo. Lord Elrond is letting me borrow them for a little while so I can translate their text from Elvish into our language so that ordinary hobbits will be able to read them.' Bilbo explained. 'Now, my lad, let's find you a book to read so I can get back to my translations!'

***

Frodo had finally settled on a book of ancient tales about the lost island of Númenór. He went outside, walking to a small grove of trees that Sam had shown him on the first day they'd spent together. 

Sam had brought him to this place, calling it his _quiet place_. This place, he said, was the place he went to escape the noise created by his older brother, his two younger sisters and his new baby brother who had been born in the early spring. 

Sam's _quiet place_ was beautiful with grass so soft that you could lay down on it for a nap, and it'd be no time before you'd be snoring softly. Five oak trees provided the grove with sufficient shade from the Sun. Also there was a small brook running in the grove's northern side but it was to small for the swimming Frodo had hopes of doing soon. 

Sitting down on the largest oak of the grove he opened his book, soon finding himself absorbed the tales of the ancient Númenórean Kings. 

***

Two hours had passed when Sam made his way into the grove carrying a basket laden with food. Frodo was still so absorbed in his reading that he did not hear his friend's approach, and so Sam cleared his throat. Frodo looked up, mildly startled at the noise and then a puzzled expression crossed his face.

'Has it been two hours already?' he said.

Sam plopped down beside him on the grass, 'Just about, Mr. Frodo,' He patted the food basket, 'Yer mum sent this so we could have tea here instead of having to back all the way to Bag End for it.'

'Splendid!' said Frodo, 'Let me just mark my place and then we shall take our tea a bit early.' He carefully placed the attached blue ribbon in-between the pages, and shutting the book he laid it on the ground beside him.

Frodo stood to help Sam spread blanket that had sent along with the food. He retrieved his book from the ground; a sitting down again as Sam began pulling out the various foods, treats, and drink from the basket Primula had prepared. 

For a time they ate in silence, each enjoying the quiet of Sam's grove, and the sound of the birds singing in the trees. Not long after they finished the mini feast of mushrooms, tarts, fruit, and cider Sam rose stretching.

'If you don't mind, Mr. Frodo, I think I shall see whereabouts I'd like to put my garden,' he said.

Stifling a yawn, Frodo looked up at his friend in interest, 'What's that? A garden you say?' 

Sam nodded. 'Here in the grove?'

'Aye, my Gaffer says I can have one as long as I kept up with my work at Bag End and at home. And I've been thinking about where I'd be wanting to have one. I finally decided against havin' one at home seeing as I can never get any peace from my sisters whenever I'm there. I figured the grove is just as good a place start a garden of my own as anywhere else.'

'Will the plants get enough sunlight to thrive here?' Frodo asked unsure of Sam's intentions.

Sam nodded, 'Aye, I am thinking they will if I plant on the far side of the brook - seein', as it's not wide and all. It'll help me keep the garden properly watered with it so close by.'

Frodo thought for a moment, and after finally realizing that his friend was the gardener and he wasn't, he nodded before he picked up his book again to read. Silence reigned over the grove as Frodo resumed his reading while Sam began to mentally plan out his garden. 

Twenty minutes passed had when Frodo heard Sam's voice, 'Mr. Frodo, are you all right?'

Frodo blushed in embarrassment at having Sam catch him wiping away his tears. He looked up at Sam, 'Aye, Sam, I'm fine. I was just reading the account of the Fall of Númenór - it's a very sad tale, and sometimes I get caught up in what I am reading about. Does that every happen to you while you're reading?'

Sam had rejoined him on the blanket. 'Is that what your book is about, Mr. Frodo? About Númenór?'

Frodo nodded, 'It is. Does the history of the world interest you, Sam?'

Sam shrugged, 'I've never had much use for studyin' the history of the world aboard, Mr. Frodo.'

'Well, Sam, why don't you try reading a selection or two from this book. You might be surprised by just how much you're interested in it.'

'I don't think so, Mr. Frodo.'

Frodo attempted to hand him the book, and when Sam refused it, Frodo sighed, 'Oh well then you shall never know which King of Númenór looked like an Elf.'

Sam looked at him stung, finally rising to his feet; 'I can't read! I never learned how!' Then ashamed at his outburst, Sam ran off towards home, leaving a stunned, silent Frodo in his wake.

***

**7 June 1380**** S.R.**

Frodo had watched for Sam so that he could speak to him the morning after the incident in the grove. He tried to wait patiently for Sam's arrival but when Hamfast arrived alone for work the next morning, Frodo learned that Sam had awakened feeling poorly that morning, so upon the advice of Mrs. Gamgee, the Gaffer had allowed his son to stay home from work that day.

Now a new morning came and after he'd finished breakfast, Frodo went out into the garden hoping to catch the sight of Sam somewhere. He soon found Sam working along beside is father, weeding a flowerbed, both so absorbed in their work that neither noticed Frodo's approach. Frodo cleared his throat, hoping that he wouldn't startle either of them too badly, and immediately Hamfast looked up.

'Oh, good morning to you, young master!' he said.

'Good morning, Mr. Gamgee, Sam, the Sun seems to be shining her light finely on this day.'

'Oh, that she is, Mr. Frodo. That she is," the Gaffer replied before he yanked out another weed. He soon noticed that Frodo was not making any movements to leave them alone at their work. 'Uh, is there something we can do for ye, young master?'

'Actually, Mr. Gamgee, I was hoping a might a private word with Sam here, if you can spare him for a moment. I promise I won't keep him long,' Frodo said.

'Of course, young master,' Hamfast replied.

Not wanting Hamfast to overhear their conversation, Frodo walked to the other end of the garden and sitting down on a bench, he waited for Sam to join him there. Sam, for his part looked uncomfortable as he took the place beside Frodo and before he could say a word, Sam was spouting out an apology.

'I'm sorry about what happened in the grove, Mr. Frodo. I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did.'

'It's all right, Sam, I didn't call you out here to get an apology,' Frodo began, 'I called you out here because, well I wanted to ask you if you would like me to teach you how to read.'

'Me? Learn how to read?' Sam said. 'O Mr. Frodo, I would love to learn how but my parents would never approve of it, seein' as it is a frivolous thing for a future gardener to learn how to do. I mean it can't very well help me or my Gaffer do the work here in Mr. Bilbo's garden. Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Frodo, but no I can't be accepting it.'

'Are you sure, Sam? I mean I'm not an expert or anything but I believe that someone somewhere has written a book or two on gardening. In fact I am quite sure Uncle Bilbo has such a book in his collection somewhere around Bag End,' Frodo said, watching Sam.

Sam was a bit flustered at this and said, 'I don't know, Mr. Frodo -'

'If you want to learn how to read, we can begin with the gardening book or whatever book you like after I teach you your letters,' Frodo stated. 'Come on, Sam, it's easy to learn and you never know how being able to read will come in handy in the future.'

Sam let out a sigh. 'Oh, all right then. I'll try to learn but we'd better not let my parents hear one word about this.'

Frodo smiled. 'If you think that's best.'

'I do.'

***

**28 June 1380**** S.R**

It had only been three weeks since Sam begun to learn how to read from Frodo and already Frodo was seeing what he thought was amazing progress. Under the older lad's tutelage, Sam had memorized the alphabet and had begun to learn simple words such as _tree_, _flower_, _weed_, _garden_, etc.

Everyday, after they had finished each lesson, Frodo would read in part or in their entirety, stories about the Elves. As Frodo read, Sam would work nearby on the patch of earth he had hopes of making into his very own garden.

It was late on one such afternoon that Frodo closed the book he had been reading aloud the _Tale of Eärendil_ the Mariner who sailed into the West to seek the aid of the Valar to fight the Dark Lord Morgoth. Sighing Frodo finished the story, closing the book he laid on the ground beside him. Sam looked up from where he had been hoeing the ground in preparation for the planting of seeds. 

Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, Sam looked at Frodo, 'Do you have any Elvish poetry you could read, Mr. Frodo?'

Frodo looked up towards the sky as the reason he had stopped was because it was fast becoming dark as though a storm was a brewing. 'I think we've done enough reading for the day, Sam.' He pointed at the dark clouds; 'We need to head back to Hobbiton now before the bottom falls out of those clouds.'

Sam looked to where he was pointing, 'You're probably right, Mr. Frodo, as those clouds aren't lookin' a wee bit friendly. Just let me get my tools together and we'll be off as quick as lightening.'

Not two minutes later while Sam was still gathering his tools did the wind began to blow briskly, so briskly in fact it caused the loose papers in Frodo's hands to blow into the nearby stream.

'O sticklebacks!' Frodo exclaimed, hurrying to the edge to grab the sopping wet papers and the book from the stream. 

'Mr. Frodo?' said Sam walking up behind Frodo.

'O, Sam, do help me get these papers out of the stream before they are completely ruined,' Frodo said snatching out another paper. As Sam knelt beside him, Frodo explained, 'These are some of the Elvish translations Uncle Bilbo was working on and when he sees how I've ruined them..."

'O I'm sure Mr. Bilbo will understand when you explain what happened,' Sam said, pulling the last of the sopping parchment from the stream. 

Frodo took the papers from him, trying the dry the running, wet ink with the end of his sleeve, 'You don't understand, Sam, I wasn't supposed to have these papers in the first place!'

  
***

**Author's Notes: **As many readers have noted in the last few chapters, this story is taking a different road than what J.R.R. Tolkien established for the dear characters we all love and cherish. For example, in this story, Sam is the second oldest of the Gamgee children instead of being the second youngest. In order for this story to work I needed Sam to be nearly the same age as Frodo and so I switched Sam's birth order with that of his brother Halfred.

I also will probably be changing a bit more canon where Sam is concerned, especially in this next chapter when Frodo approaches Sam about wanting to teach him how to read and write whereas in THE LORD OF THE RINGS we know it was Bilbo who taught him how to read:

"Mr. Bilbo has learned him (Sam) his letters -- meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will come of it." -- The Gaffer, FOTR, A Long-Expected Party


	12. Consequences

  
**13. Consequences**

By the time Frodo and Sam reached Bag End, rain was falling hard and the wind was blowing pretty hard. Despite how nasty it was outside, Sam hurried on home down Bagshot Row after he had made sure Frodo was safe and sound at Bag End.

Time he was in the door, Primula took the basket from his arm, and gave him instruections to go change his wet clothes. Frodo went to do as his mother told him, forgetting about the ruined books and papers that were still tucked inside the basket.

When Frodo entered the kitchen a few moments later, Primula had set the book and parchment on the table. Frodo's heart sank as he caught sight of them, even as his mother asked him about them. Frodo knew better than to lie about them, and he told her they were Bilbo's and that he had taken them without permission. Without another word, Primula had led Frodo down the hallway to the door of Bilbo's study.  
Primula crossed her arms, nodding towards the door to Bilbo's study, saying 'Go on.'

Swallowing hard, and gathering up his frail courage, Frodo clutched the damaged book to his chest before knocking on the doorframe. Bilbo quickly granted him permission to enter, and slowly Frodo made his way in, and over to Bilbo's desk. The older hobbit looked up as Frodo halted beside his chair, and putting down his quill, he smiled at his nephew.

His smile vanished when he saw the look on the other's face, 'Frodo-lad, why whatever is the matter?'

Frodo held out the book towards him, 'I've ruined your book, uncle. I'm sorry.'

Bilbo took the volume, about to tell the lad not to make such a fuss over it when his eyes met the Elvish script on the book's cover. Without a word he opened the cover, discovering the ruined parchments inside and moments passed as Bilbo examined them as well as the book. Finally he laid them aside, and turned his chair so he could face his nephew.

Bilbo sighed, 'Is this one the books I asked you not to take from my study?'

Frodo muttered, 'Yes, uncle.'

'Why did you take it then?' he asked, and Frodo was silent. 'Well, are you going to answer me, lad?'

'I wanted to read the book.'

Bilbo gave him a dubious look, 'This book was written in Elvish, a language I was unaware you read.'

'Um...'

'Do you want to try the truth, Frodo?' Bilbo asked.

Frodo answered, 'If I tell you, I will be breaking a promise I made to someone.'

'A promise? To whom?' Bilbo asked, and then added at Frodo's reluctance, 'I won't tell anyone whatever it is but I would like an explanation for the book.'

Frodo sighed, 'I've been teaching Sam how to read and write.'

'What?'

'It's true, uncle. One day while we were exploring together Sam told me he had never learned how to read or write.'

'I see,' Bilbo said, 'Frodo, I think it is a fine thing for you to teach Sam, but why do it in secret?'

'Because he's afraid his parents won't approve of him learning his letters,' Frodo replied.

Bilbo thought for a moment about the kind of reaction they might have. He was sure Bell Gamgee would be thrilled at the thought her son learning how to do something she was never able to learn herself. Hamfast on the other hand he wasn't so sure about as he was the type of hobbit to consider whatever activities that did help him to get the gardening done to be a waste of time. He was a fine gardener all right but just persuading him to let Sam have a few hours off every afternoon to be with Frodo had not been an easy task. Perhaps both Frodo and Sam had shown wisdom in keeping the reading lessons a secret but that did not however excuse Frodo's taking the book from his study.

Bilbo sighed, 'Frodo, I normally would not approve of a lad keeping secrets from his parents,' He gave Frodo a meaningful look, 'But in Sam's case. I believe you were right to do so as his father. As while Hamfast Gamgee is the best gardener in all the Shire, he is also likely inclined to think of book-learning as a waste of time when there's other work to be done.'

He noted a somewhat relieved look passed on Frodo's face, 'However, Frodo-lad, I am still disappointed in you.' He picked up a piece of the ruined parchment, 'This was to be your birthday present. I've worked on these translations since our birthday last year because I know how much you like Elvish poetry.' He watched Frodo's face fall, 'But these aren't good for anything but to feed the fire now.' To emphasis his point Bilbo rose from his chair, and threw the now wrinkled, dry parchments into the fireplace, the flames licked and then consumed the offering.

He waited until the pages had curled into ashes before he turned again to Frodo, 'Now about the book - since an explaination for Lord Elrond shall have to be written, I think it is only fair that you be the one to write the letter.'

'Me?' Frodo said. 'But, uncle, I don't know how to write in Elvish!'

'That's quite all right, because Lord Elrond can read Westron,' Bilbo replied. 'I shall expect your letter soon so I can put it in with the next batch of letters I will be sending to Rivendell.'

'All right, uncle, I'll-'

A knock came at the door, and both turned to see Drogo standing there with a rather severe look on his face, 'Uncle, if you'rfe finished with Frodo I want to speak to him.'

Bilbo nodded, 'Of course.' Frodo started out the door, 'Remember what I want you to do, lad.'

'Yes, uncle.'

Drogo started to follow his son out the door when Bilbo called him back. He told Frodo to go to his room, that he'd be along shortly before he turned to see what the other wanted.

Bilbo waited until he was sure Frodo was down the hallway before he spoke, 'I assume Primula told you what happened?'

'Aye, she did.'

'Are you going to punish Frodo further?'

'Aye, Frodo knows to listen to and to obey his elders. I know you asked him not to take the book from your study,' Drogo answered.

Bilbo sighed, 'Are you going to spank him?' When he nodded, he said, 'Oh, Drogo, is that really necessary?'

'He should know there are consequences for his actions,' Drogo replied.

Bilbo hated the thought of Frodo being caused pain but he knew from his own childhood experience that few things got his attention or emphasized a point as when his father had swatted his backside every now and again.


	13. Confinement

**14. Confinement**

**July 1, 1380**** S.R.**

Throwing in the last of the chopped carrots into the stew, Primula wiped her hands as she walked to answer the knock at the back door. She opened the door to find that Sam stood on the stoop, running the back of his hand across his sweat-damp brow, his back turned to her.

'May I help you, Samwise?'

Sam jumped, and turned to face her, 'Er, yes'm - my Da wanted me to ask Mr. Bilbo what we should do with the taters we dugged up.'

'Well Bilbo is in his study at the moment,' Primula answered.

Sam nodded, 'I see, ma'am, I can again later-'

'Nonsense!' Primula said, 'Come inside and ask Bilbo what you need to ask him.' She motioned for him to come in and Sam reluctantly stepped inside.

Primula return to her cooking as Sam seemed lost as he stood by the door. Turning around to see him still there, Primula was startled as she had expected him to be gone down the tunnel.

'Do you know the way to Bilbo's study?'

'Beggin' your pardon, but no ma'am I don't.'

Taking one last glance at her stew, Primula motioned for Sam to follow her down one of the tunnels. Sam had certainly been inside before but he had never had any reason to go much further beyond the foyer or backdoor of Bag End. His eyes widened as they took in the many beautiful and fanciful thing, mathoms Bilbo had collected or been given during his lifetime.

Turning down the west tunnel, Primula led Sam a door that was slightly ajar, and Sam only paused a moment when he heard 'O sticklebacks!' exclaimed loudly from the other side. After glancing back at Primula, who hadn't heard the voice and so was still walking on down the tunnel, Sam tapped softly on the door, saying as he gently cracked it, "Mr. Frodo, is that you?"

Frodo was standing by the window where Sam had received his first glance of Frodo, he brow furled in concentration as he stared at the paper in his hand. He held a pencil in the hand that cradled his chin as if it might aid him in finding the words he was struggling to find. He looked up when Sam entered, 'Sam, what are you doing in here?'

'Well you see, Mr. Frodo, my Da sent me inside to ask Mr. Bilbo what should be done with the taters we dugged, and I didn't know which way Mr. Bilbo's study was, so I were a'following yer mama, er Mrs. Baggins and I heard you speak aloud-'

'If it were any other time you had strayed into my room, I'd be delighted,' said Frodo, 'But I am being punished for going into Uncle Bilbo's study without his permission and for taking, destroying a book that did not belong to me.**'**

'But it twere an accident, Mr. Frodo, that ruined the book,' said Sam, 'Don't tell me Mr. Bilbo's that out of sorts about-'

'Samwise!'

Sam turned ten different shades of red before he spun around to see Frodo's mother standing there with her hands on her hips, 'Yes'm?' he said meekly.

"I thought you were following me," Primula replied and she stepped forward to pull Sam out into the tunnel by the arm, giving Frodo a stern glance, 'I suggest you get back to work on the assignment from your father.'

'Yes, Mother,' Frodo responded as she closed the door.

Once the door was closed, Primula looked at Sam again, 'I'm sorry, Samwise, but Frodo is not allowed to have visitors right now, not until he's done as he's been told by his father. Now, walk in front of me and I'll take you to Bilbo.'

'Yes'm, Mrs. Baggins."

Frodo sighed on frustration a few moments after Primula pulled Sam from his room, closing the door in her wake. Before she had left, she'd given him a stern warning to get back to what he'd been told to do, and he sighed as he balled up the paper in his hands, throwing it away as he again had failed in his assignment.

Frodo winced as he sat down at his desk, his backside still a tad sore from the belting he'd received from his father. His father wasn't one who believed in applying the belt a lot in disciplining his son, but when he did Frodo had some slight discomfort whenever he sat down for the next few days. Wiggling in his chair he sat straight in the chair, and after he pulled a clean sheet of paper in front of him again, he began to scratch out the beginnings of a letter.

**_Dear Lord Elrond_**…

'Oh that won't do!' he muttered.

Scratch!

**_Dear Lord Elrond_**…

**_My Lord_**…

Yes, he liked the sound of that better!

**_My Lord,_**

**_My name is Frodo Baggins, I am the cousin of your friend_**…

Wait, was Uncle Bilbo an actual friend to the Elf Lord?

Scratch again!

**_My Lord,_**

**_My name is Frodo Baggins, I am the cousin of your friend – acquaintance, Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, Hobbiton. I am writing you, sir, because a few days ago I took a book from my Uncle's study, a book that had belong to you, sir. I removed the book from the safety of Bag End, going outside to read it with my friend, Sam. _**

**_We were caught up in the beauty of the day, as Sam and I went to a special place he's shown me_**…

Wait, he had promised Sam not to reveal to anyone about his friend's secret place!

Scratch!

**_I deeply regret my dishonest taking of the book from my uncle's study led to its being destroyed but my Lord, I wish to take full responsibility for it in hopes that you will not stop sending Uncle Bilbo books from Rivendell's vast library. Please, my Lord, accept my humble apology and please know if I can make up for the loss of your book in some way, I will. _**

**_You need only let me know._**

**_Again, my apologies._**

**_Yours humbly,_**

**_Frodo Baggins_**

After he had read over it again twice, Frodo took yet another clean sheet of paper, and in his best script he copied down his letter of apology to Elrond in ink. He was blowing on the ink to dry it when Bilbo knocked on his door, and poked his head in, 'Frodo?'

'Come in, uncle,' said Frodo rising from his chair.

"I came to see if you need some help, lad, with that letter to Lord Elrond," Bilbo stated as he closed the door behind him.

'I'm finished with it,' Frodo responded, showing it to the older hobbit, 'It's not written in Elvish but I hope Lord Elrond will still understand what I was trying to say by it.'

Frodo allowed the older hobbit to read what he had written and Bilbo smiled, 'This is a very well-written letter, Frodo, very well-written indeed.' Bilbo laid it on the desk, 'And fear not, lad, Lord Elrond reads and write in many languages, including Westron and in some Dwarvish I believe. He will have no difficulties in understanding what you were trying to convey to him in this letter.'

Frodo breathed out a sigh of relief, 'I'm so glad _that_ part of my punishment is over with.'

Bilbo carefully folded the letter, 'This will be in the next batch of letters I send to Lord Elrond.' He opened the door, 'I'll tell your father that you've finished the task you were told to do.'

Frodo nodded, 'Thank you, uncle.' He watched Bilbo leave before turning to his window, and opening it he watched Sam for a little while, who was busy tending some flowers.

A few minutes later, Drogo knocked on the door, and entered. He sat down on Frodo's bed and gestured for his son to sit beside him. It was a moment before he could speak as he seemed short of breath.

'Papa?' Frodo said concerned.

Drogo laid a hand on Frodo's arm, 'I'm fine, son. Let me catch my breath here.' He huffed a little bit before he finally started to breathe normally. Smiling at his worried son, Drogo began, 'Your uncle Bilbo told me that you finished the letter he asked you to write explaining what happened to the book.'

'Yes, Papa, I did.'

'Good," said Drogo, 'Frodo, you understand why you were punished?'

Frodo nodded, 'Yes, I do.'

'I want you to, in your own words, explain it to me why then,' Drogo replied.

'I was punished because I, um,' Frodo paused, 'because I took a book that did not belong to me, and I took it without Uncle Bilbo's permission. I also destroyed something, although it was an accident, that didn't belong to me. I was punished because what I did was wrong.'

'Yes, it was,' said Drogo, getting up he crossed the room to the window and spotted Sam at work, 'But I think you've learned your lesson.'

'Yes, Papa, I have. I promise you I have.'

'Then your confinement to your room is over with,' his father said, and he looked at Frodo, 'Why don't you go outside for awhile and enjoy the day's last few hours of sunshine before the Sun takes to her bed.'

Frodo grinned, standing up, and after he hugged his father he rushed to the door, 'Thank you, Papa!' he exclaimed before leaving Bag End.


	14. A Turn For the Worst

**

* * *

Medical Disclaimer:** What you will read in the following is written for drama's sake and I am by no means a medical doctor. Please do not take any of this literally.

* * *

**September 2, 1380 S.R.**

Bilbo was seated across from Frodo at the table, working on consuming the scrumptious first breakfast Primula had made that morning, worried that neither she or Drogo was present at the table to enjoy it with them. For the past four weeks, Drogo's condition had grown considerable worse as he now grew tired more easily than ever, taking often to his bed earlier than most folks did, and he often complained of shortness of breath, and at times of dizziness. Always Drogo tried to keep how serious his illness was from his son but the further it progress the harder it was to do. Finally he had to admit how sick he really was when Frodo asked him to spend sometime with him outdoors, away from Bag End.

And just this morning Drogo had awaken with a light fever, and though it may have been a little reaction on her part, Primula had insisted that he spend the day in bed. So she had made first breakfast, leaving it on the stove for Bilbo and her son while she took a tray of the food to her ailing husband. Meanwhile Frodo for the most part ate distractedly, picking at the food on his plate, and not eating more than a few real bites.

_The lad's a bright one_, Bilbo thought, _He knows something is amiss with his father_.

The older hobbit sat there and watched his nephew have a most unhobbit like interest in his food for as long as he could take it, and finally an idea came to him of what he could do to help life Frodo's spirits. Rising from his seat, he spoke not a word to Frodo but walked to his study to retrieve a book, ragged, and nearly falling apart with age. He returned and laid it on the table before his nephew, waiting for Frodo to react. A second later, he was rewarded with the reaction he was hoping to get when Frodo picked it up, his eyes wide in wondrous awe.

'That, my lad, is the book I first used when I began studying the languages of the Elves, given to me by Lord Elrond himself.' said Bilbo.

Frodo ran his fingers over the Elven script, saying, "Really?"

Bilbo smiled, 'Yes, really and now I'm giving it to you.' If it were even possible Frodo's eyes grew even bigger, especially when Bilbo uttered this next, 'I'm giving it to you, lad, because I want to teach you Elvish. That is if you'd like to read, write, and speak it for yourself. Would you?'

'O yes please, uncle, I would!' Frodo replied excitedly.

'Splendid!' Bilbo stood up, 'We'll begin your first lesson after you've finished your breakfast – and I do not want to hear the excuse that you're not hungry as we don't want you to be distracted by the growling of an empty stomach now do we?'

'No, uncle,' Frodo replied, and began to attack his breakfast with gusto.

Bilbo smiled, 'I'll just wash these few dishes, while you finish your breakfast, and then we'll see about getting started.'

Primula entered the suite she was sharing with her husband, a suite she had suspected of once belonging to Bilbo's own parents, and later he had confirmed after they had been settled in for some months. She had tried to insist that he take them back for his own use but Bilbo would have none of it saying that he certainly did not need the use of 'two parlours, privy, and two separate bedrooms'. He had gone onto the tell her that those particular rooms had not been used since his own father's death as his mother Belladonna simply could not bear remaining in the rooms where she shared so many memories with her beloved husband.

* * *

The suite was decorated in calming shades of white, cream, greens reminding one greatly of the outdoors with all of the intricate leaves and flowers and even a tree or two craved into the borders of the walls. The master bedroom was also the brightest as it had the largest window in Bag End, facing the east, allowing for the Sun to greet them with her warmth and light each morning. But unfortunately, since Drogo's illness had begun to worsen, they had to keep the drapes closed for the Sun's light had begun to hurt his eyes. 

Primula stepped inside the room, and allowed time for her eyes to adjust, before weaving her way into the room where Drogo laid covered in a pile of quilts. She set the tray down, and came to the bed, sitting as gently as possible on the bed as not to disturb him as he laid with his eyes closed as though he were asleep. She watched him for a moment before extending her hand to touch his forehead, and she discovered a sheen of sweat there.

In a concerned voice she said, 'Drogo?'

He opened his eyes, and whispered hoarsely 'Prim?'

'Aye, it's me, love,' she replied, 'Are you feeling any better?'

Then he began to cough, she had to help him sit up, and then hand him a clean cloth to help stifle the coughs. Drogo coughed for a good minute before the attack let up, and when he finally pulled the handkerchief away from his mouth, there were tiny spots of blood present. Primula tried not to allow her fear to show as she helped him to lay back down on the bed, pulling the quilts back over him.

'Do you need anything?' she asked as he settled again.

Drogo shook his head, 'No.'

'Are you hungry, love?' she asked. 'I brought a tray laden with all of your favorite first breakfast foods.'

'No, love,' he replied, closing his eyes, 'I just want to sleep right now if you please.'

Primula said nothing for a moment, and then she touched his forehead again, 'Your fever has become worse. I think I should send for the healer.'

Drogo halted her when she started to get up by laying a hand on her arm, and when she looked at him he said, 'We…need…to talk.'

'We'll talk after the healer has seen you,' Primula replied.

'Please...Prim...I think...my...time...is short now,' Drogo replied.

Primula shook her head, 'Don't say things like that, Drogo. You've just caught a chill, that's all. The healer will give you so medicine and you'll be fine, love.'

Drogo looked on her sadly, 'Primula...you....know that's...is not...true. The healer....said that....I have...a sick...ness that will...kill me...within six...months...if not sooner. I'm dying, love.'

Tears spilled down Primula's face, 'No, Drogo, I can't accept this. I will not lose you now!' He moved to touch her again but this time she stood up before he could. 'I'm going to ask Bilbo to send for the healer.' With that she gathered up the tray she had prepared for him, and left the suite before he could say another word.

By the time Primula sought out Bilbo to relay her request, he had relocated with Frodo to his study, and when she came across them there, she decided not to disturbed them as she worried what effect sending for the healer might have on her son. So instead she decided to ask Hamfast or Sam to go for the healer.

'Is something wrong with Mr. Bilbo?' Hamfast asked, clearly worried.

'Or Mr. Frodo?' Sam interjected, and was immediately shushed by his father.

'O no, Mr. Gamgee, and Frodo is fine, Sam. He's inside with Bilbo,' Primula replied, 'My husband awoke with a fever and I want to make certain it is nothing more serious than a late summer cold.'

Hamfast nodded, 'Sam here will go for the healer, won't ye, lad?'

'Yes, sir,' Sam said laying down the small shovel in his hand, and brushed his hands on his breeches.

'Do you know where the healer Tolman Bracegridle leaves?' Primula asked.

'Yes'm, I do,' Sam responded.

'Please go ask him to come immediately to Bag End.'

Sam nodded, took off running the gate, he hurrying down Bagshot Row and was out of sight within a second.

'Thank you, Mr. Gamgee,' Primula said as she started back inside.

'Yer welcome, ma'am, and please call me Hamfast,' was the reply, 'O and I hope Mr. Drogo will be getting better soon.'

* * *

Sam soon returned with Tolman Bracegridle, and Primula admitted him into Bag End by way of the back entrance as she did not wish to alarm Frodo, nor Bilbo for that matter. The healer spent very little time with Drogo, checking his fever, and listening to him breathe. For the most part Drogo slept through the examination, and only awoke when the healer beckoned Primula out into the hallway. 

The look on his face was grim as he said, 'I'm sorry, Mrs. Baggins, but your husband has the beginning of the gaffer's friend.'

Primula gasped, 'O no!'

'I must ask you has your husband been ill for a very long time?' Bracegirdle asked gently.

Primula nodded, 'Aye, he began to become ill around May while we lived yet in Buckland among my family in Brandy Hall.'

Bracegirdle bristled at her mention of Buckland, for as with all inhabitants of the Shire-proper, he thought that Buckland was a queer place, and it bred even queerer folk. He bushed aside his intial reaction, and cleared his throat, 'Did he ever see a healer there, Mrs. Baggins?'

'Aye, he did.'

'Of what did the healer tell him, ma'am?' asked Bracegirdle, 'Please, ma'am, it is very important that you tell me everything you can remember.' Primula recounted everything she could remember that Milo Gentlewinter had said, and when she had finished, Bracegirdle actually smiled in relief, and he even touched her hand. 'I don't know who apprenticed Healer Gentlewinter but I've never heard of such an illness, Mrs. Baggins!'

'Are you certain?' Primula asked, her hope rising.

'Aye, for it seems like poppycock to me,' Bracegirdle replied, 'And I believe if we get your husband through this case of the gaffer's friend, he will make a full recovery.'

Primula was reeling from this news, the news that her husband was no dying and would recover if they could just get him through this bout of illness. But she thought about the past five months and she wondered if _this_ healer knew everything. She voiced her concerns to him and he merely smiled.

'I am quite sure after being told such nonsense, Mrs. Baggins, your husband actually started to believe that he was dying,' said Bracegirdle, 'But I really believe that it could all be due to that foolishness that Gentlewinter put into his head.'

Primula nodded, her hope renewed, 'Tell me what we have to do to see my husband through his illness.'

Tolman Bracegridle left everything he thought would be needed to tend to Drogo's sickness, telling her that he would return the next day to check on him, and that she should send for him right away if Drogo worsen or if he showed no signs of improvement. Bilbo emerged from his study just as Primula had seen Bracegirdle out the front door of Bag End.

'Who was that?' he asked.

'Tolman Bracecgirdle,' Primula answered, already in action to see to her husband's needs.

Bilbo followed her into the kitchen, 'The healer?'

'Aye, the healer.'

'What did he say about Drogo?'

Primula stopped for a moment to look at Bilbo, 'He said that Drogo has the gaffer's friend.'  
Bilbo drew in a sharp breath, closing his eyes briefly and just as he was about to say something. Frodo entered the kitchen with a paper in his hand to show his uncle. Shaking his head, Bilbo hoped Frodo would hear nothing wrong in his voice as he said, 'Very good, Frodo, very good indeed.' He noted that Primula had turned her back so it blocked what she was doing at the stove, and he pulled Frodo towards the door when he saw that was where the lad was headed next, 'Go practice some more, Frodo, I'll return shortly to show you some more letters and words.'

Frodo nodded, 'Yes, uncle.'

Bilbo waited until he was certain Frodo was down the hallway and halfway back to his study before he spoke, 'Primula, you know how much I love Drogo and how much I will do anything to help you see to his comfort. But, Primula dear, you must consider this, if the time has come for him to go, then there are worse ways to pass.'

'What?' Primula asked in an outraged tone as she turned to face him, 'Are you saying we should just give up and let him die now?'

Bilbo shook his head vehemently, 'O no, no, no - Please do not misunderstand me! I just meant that this would be easier for him and I do not mean to give up on him but if this illness seems as though it is going to overwhelm his already weakened strength, then perhaps we should then concentrate on keeping him as comfortable as possible, and just let him sleep away. As I said, the gaffer's friend would be an easier way to pass as his other illness could mean more pain for him before he's gone.'

'I cannot believe I am hearing this!' Primula replied, 'I would never think that you had such little regard for Drogo that you'd simply want to give the fight for his life!' She finished her task and gatherered together the medicines given to her by Bracegirdle on a tray, intending on storming out of the room and when he stepped in her path she merely kept going by weaving around him.

'Primula, please!' he called after her but she did not stop, 'Sticklebacks!"

Bilbo replayed their conversation in his head, and he knew he sounded cold and unfeeling. He sounded as though he had never loved Drogo a day in his life but Bilbo knew that was not true as he had loved him from the moment he was born. Inside he was hurting and grieving as much as Primula was, and he worried for his nephew, worried if the gaffer's friend did not take his life, the other one certainly would in a far more painful fashion.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Primula left Frodo in Bilbo's care, choosing to allow her son to remain ignorant how sick his father was until it was time for him to go to bed. Usually every night before he went to bed, Frodo would say goodnight to both of his parents, receiving a hug and in Primula's case, a kiss. Tonight however when the time came for him to bid Drogo a goodnight, he was halted by his mother just outside the door to their suite. 

'Your papa is already asleep,' she said gently, leading him down the hallway and towards his own room, 'Frodo, you know that your father awoke with a fever this morning?'

Frodo nodded, 'Yes, Mama.'

'Well, while you were studying with Bilbo this morning I asked that a healer come see your father. The healer said that your father is very sick, and will need a lot of medicine and close care for the next several days,' Primula explained.

They had arrived at his room, and had walked inside, and Primula had her back turned to Frodo as he changed into his nightshirt before hopping into bed. She pulled the covers up on him, and kissed his brow, and was about to blow out his candle when Frodo said, 'Please, Mama, I want to help with Papa tomorrow.'

Primula smiled, 'I know you do, Frodo, but I think the best way for you to help right now is to continue your studies with your uncle. I'll look after you father.'

'But Mama won't you get tired looking after Papa all alone?'

'I'll be fine, dear. I'll get some sleep tonight, I promise,' she replied, and blew the candle out.

'Mama?'

'Yes, Frodo?'

'Promise me Papa's going to be fine.'

Primula closed her eyes, grateful that he couldn't see her face in the darkened room, 'I promise. Now go to sleep, love.'

'Goodnight, Mama.'

'Goodnight.'

**

* * *

September 9, 1380 S.R.**

Drogo's fever did not break for four more days, becoming dangerously high during the night between the second and third day. The healer spent the better part of those days at Bag End, trying various medicines and methods to reduce fever. For most of the third day Drogo's fever was so high that when he was conscious, he was delirious, and Primula wondered how Bilbo could have spoken as the gaffer's friend as being a peaceful passing as she listened to the mutterings of her husband's fevered mind.

After so many days without seeing his father, Frodo was able to slip into the suite when his mother and uncle were otherwise preoccupied in the kitchen. Bracegirdle was also absent from the room having briefly returned to the guest room for a few hours rest as Drogo's temperature was stable as it could be. When Frodo came in, Drogo was actually asleep, but as he was still fevered he was covered in sweat, and occasionally muttered something unintelligible.

Frodo found his father propped up against several sweat damped pillows, with each breathe he drew raspy and labored. A pile of quilts were pulled up to his chin, and his face had a pallor to it even with the scarlet of the fever that raged within his body. At first hearing his father's harsh, labored breathing frightened Frodo, so much so that he nearly retreated from the room, and in fact had one foot out of the door. But then he halted, as if though he suddenly found his courage again, and turned to slowly creep up again to the bed when his father laid fighting for his life.

He halted on the left side of the bed where his father laid, and gently he reached out to touch Drogo's shoulder which poked out from under the quilts just ever so slightly, saying in an afraid voice, 'Papa?'

'Frodo!' came Primula's voice from the door. Frodo whirled around to see his mother standing there with a tray in her hands, only momentarily stunned by seeing her son in the room. The shock did not last long as she deposited the tray on a nearby chair, and then she firmly took hold of one of her son's arms as she pulled him from the room.

'Mama, I-'

But Primula let him get no further as she turned him around, and gave his bottom a few stinging swats, before turning him to face her again. He stood there fighting back tears as he rubbed his smarting bottom as she knelt to face, 'Stay out of that room, Frodo, your father is dangerously ill and I will not have you becoming ill as well! Do you understand me?'

Frodo blinked away his tears, nodding, and saying in a small voice, 'But, Mama, I only wanted to help with Papa and I haven't seen him in days and I was afraid that he died and you just haven't told me yet-' His tears escaped at this and he began to sob as he hid his face in his hands. 'I'm sorry, Mama.'

'O, Frodo,' Primula said, pulling him into her harms, 'I'm the one who should be sorry as I made a promise to you that I haven't kept very well,' She pulled back to look at him, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his face, 'I'm sorry for breaking my promise but your father is very ill, and I don't want you getting ill too. Will you forgive me?'

Frodo sniffled, 'Uh huh.'

She brushed some hair out of his face, 'I know you want to help, Frodo, but right now you can best help by staying with Bilbo or going outside and enjoying the Sun. Your father is not dying, Frodo, and I promise you he _will_ get better. All right?' Frodo nodded, wiping his eyes before his mother kissed him, 'I tell you what – as soon as your father is feeling better, I'll call you in to see him.'

'Promise for real this time?'

Primula smiled, 'I promise this time _for real_.' She stood up, 'Now go eat your lunch.'

That had been four days ago, and today had been allowed into his father's sickroom where a pale but not fever flushed Drogo sat against the pillows, slowly taking in the broth that Primula was carefully feeding him.

'Papa!' he yelled, hurrying to the bed, aborting his intended jump at the last moment when Primula reminded him to be careful of his yet weak father. Climbing up to his father on the bed, Frodo hugged Drogo, 'Uncle Bilbo says you're feeling a lot better.'

Drogo smiled, 'I am feeling a lot better, son, but I am still somewhat ill.'

'So much so that I'm afraid that this visit will have to be a short one,' Primula said.

'Awww, Mama!'

'No, arguing with your mother,' Bilbo said, coming cautiously into the room.

Drogo turned his attention towards the door, 'Uncle, thank you for looking after Frodo here.' Beside him, Primula murmured a quiet thank you as well.

Bilbo nodded, 'It was my pleasure.' He held out his hand towards Frodo, 'Come on, lad, your father needs to finish his broth and then rest. And we have our studies to see to.' Reluctantly, Frodo hugged his father again and then scooted off the bed, taking his uncle's hand. Primula watched them leave, her eyes cold as she watched Bilbo's retreating form.

'Prim?' Drogo said as he looked at her.

She shook her head, 'Yes, Drogo?'

'Did something happen between you and Uncle Bilbo while I was ill?'

Smiling, the coldness left her eyes as she lied, 'No, dear, why do you ask?'

'O no particular reason, love,' he replied but from that moment he always noted the coldness in his wife's once warm eyes whenever they beheld Bilbo Baggins.

**

* * *

Author's Note:** The term _gaffer's friend_, a Shire term for what we now know as pneumonia, is one I first encountered in my good friend Lindelea's stories and I thank her for her permission to use this term in my own story!

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	15. Of Wizards and Fireworks

**16. Of Wizards and Fireworks**

**

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Special thanks** to FrodoBaggins88 for being my beta for this chapter!

* * *

**September 18, 1380 S.R.**

Some nights later, when everyone in Hobbiton lay tucked cozy and warm in their beds in their own holes, a stranger to most, friend to far and few of its inhabitants, crept through quietly its streets, making his way eventually up to Bagshot Row. Finally the small cart pulled up in front of his destination, and after a wording halting the weary horse, the visitor climbed down off his cart. He unhitching the horse from the cart before taking up his staff in hand (for he was an old man), and opening the gate he lead the animal inside, turning him loose to graze on Bilbo's grass.

As he walked to the door, he knew he would have to rise early and do something about his cart as he did not doubt it would attract young, curious hobbits as moths to a flame, for it was laden with all sorts of items related to his trade as a wizard. The young could never resist pilfering some of the treasures it contained, and some of those treasures as he well knew were very dangerous in inexperienced hands.

He knew Bilbo had taken up the habit of locking his doors at night because he had had unwanted visitors, indeed unwanted relatives, barging in on him at all hours of the day and night. Since the lights were out and it appeared that Bilbo was in bed, the wizard decided not to follow his usual custom of banging in the door with his staff. Instead he reached inside of his robes, burrowing deep into hidden pockets, searching for one particular item, and pulling out several other items that he did not want or need at the moment before he found the object of his search. Finally he pulled the key to the door from his pocket, and leaning over, he unlocked the door without much trouble before stepping inside of Bag End.

He set his hat by the door as well as his staff, as both were too big and would only hinder his careful navigations through Bag End's tunnel as quietly as he wished. After all, Bilbo was most likely in bed and he did not wish to be an inconsiderate houseguest by giving his dear friend a fright with some sudden, unexplained noise from what should have been a completely silent smial.

He was halfway down the South tunnel, headed for the room where he usually stayed while he visited Bilbo when he decided that a cup of tea would be in order before he lay down his wearied head. So, turning around, the wizard made his way back toward the kitchen, and once there he quickly stoked up the fire and put the kettle on to boil before finding the Big Folk tea cup Bilbo had had made for him. Soon the kettle whistled and he quickly removed it from the fire, pouring the hot water into the teapot and waiting a few moments before he poured it into his cup.

With a satisfied smiled, Gandalf the Grey closed his eyes, intending to savor the warmth and taste of his tea in the quiet of Bilbo's kitchen before he sought out his bed at last.

* * *

Primula awoke suddenly and sat up in bed, glancing at Drogo as though he had made the noise that had awakened her from her slumber. But thankfully he only lightly snored in his sleep, and after she touched his forehead to reassure herself he really was recovering, she slipped her feet out of bed. Pulling on a dressing gown before straightening her night bonnet, Primula padded her way softly down the hall, stopping first at Frodo's room to make sure he was sleeping soundly. 

Once she was sure he was fine, she went to check the rest of the smial, and when she found nothing in the other rooms, she was convinced that she had dreamed the noise that had awakened her.

She had turned to return to her room when she noted a light coming from the kitchen as though someone had stoked the fire up. As she was sure that everyone else who lived in Bag End was asleep at 11 o'clock at night, she decided to investigate and see who or what had invaded Bilbo's kitchen at such an unreasonable hour of the night.

* * *

Gandalf opened his eyes just in time to see a hobbit sized blur run into the kitchen and over to where Bilbo kept his pans. Within seconds, a hobbit matron stood before him wielding a Dwarven-made iron skillet, her eyes ablazed with fury as she waved it at him, 'Out, you over grown cowardly thief!' 

Gandalf looked on her in amusement more than anything else and he raised his hands, saying, 'Madam, please,' he said, trying to rise awkwardly from the too small bench, causing the hobbit to scream.

'You're not intimidating me, you big oaf!' the hobbit matron replied, connecting the skillet with his mid-section just to prove her point. 'I said get out!' Gandalf had had the wind knocked out him at least, and as he drew in a breath to speak, they were both startled by another voice coming from the kitchen's doorway.

'My dear Gandalf,' said Bilbo in a stunned voice before he recovered his wits enough to say, 'O good heavens, Primula! Put that skillet down! This is no thief come to rob me but a very dear friend of mine!' He waited until she reluctantly lowered the skillet before continuing, 'Gandalf, this is my nephew Drogo's wife, Primula.'

Gandalf knelt so he was more at Primula's level when he said, 'A pleasure at last to meet the wife of Bilbo's favorite nephew.' The old wizard actually took her hand and kissed the back of it, causing his former _enemy_ to blush.

'You're _the_ Gandalf the Grey?' she asked skeptically. 'The wizard?'

'Indeed I am, madam,' Gandalf responded with a smile and wink.

'Well somehow I thought you'd be taller,' she replied as he rose up from the floor.

Her comment caused a chuckle to escape from the wizard even as something small attached itself to his leg. Gandalf looked downwards to see a small hobbit lad hugging his left leg tightly, and he touched the boy's head, saying, 'Ai, now who have we here?'

Bilbo smiled, 'Gandalf, may I present Drogo's son and my favorite nephew, Frodo Baggins?'

At hearing Gandalf's name, Frodo looked up at the wizard and exclaimed, 'I _knew_ it was you! I knew it!'

When the lad looked at him, Gandalf was taken aback, for rarely had he seen such a Light as bright and beautiful as his Lady Varda's stars themselves shining forth from an adult mortal, much less from one who was still a child! The wizard positively gasped as he beheld the small face turned up in joyous rapture as it smiled on him in anticipation. Gandalf found that he had to fight tears as for an instant he had a premonition regarding this boy's feature – a premonition that was gone as quickly as it had come.

'Frodo,' Primula admonished her son, 'Let go of his leg!' But the little hobbit continued to clutch his leg as though his life depended on it, so much so that an embarrassed Primula had to pry her son off of Gandalf's leg, 'I'm terribly sorry, sir. I don't know what's come over him.'

Gandalf smiled, 'No harm done.'

A sudden knock came on Bilbo's front door, making all 4 of the kitchen's occupants jump, and Bilbo hurried to answer it muttering, 'Who on Middle-earth could that be at this hour of the night?' He swung the door open to seeing a gathering of his neighbors, mostly menfolk, standing on his stoop clutching pitch forks and other forms of household items as weapons.

'Mr. Bilbo, are ye and yers fine?' asked Hamfast from the midst of the small crowd.

Bilbo smiled, 'We're all right as rain here, Master Hamfast. I must ask what are you all doing standing here on my front step in the middle of the night?'

"Well, Mr. Baggins, wees all heard this bloodcurdling scream a'comin' from yer hole and we's afraid that some thief had broken in and was murdering ye,' Hamfast answered for the crowd.

'I'm fine, I assure you all,' Bilbo replied.

'Who does the cart belong to, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Daddy Twofoot.

'To me, Mr. Twofoot,' said Gandalf from behind Bilbo, bending down to look at the crowd of hobbits.

'We should have known that it was that confounded wizard!' said a voice that sounded a lot like that belonging to the miller.

'I am sorry that we disturbed everyone,' Bilbo said as the crowd began to break up.

'Mad Baggins,' some said on their way down the Hill, while others shook their heads saying, 'Old Bilbo's cracked all right, associating with the likes of wizards and such other queer folk.'

Hamfast waited for the crowd to disperse before he stepped closer to the door, 'Is there anything ye'll be needing, Mr. Bilbo a'fore I be heading home?'

Bilbo nodded, 'Only for you to apologize to Bell for me for interrupting your night's sleep.'

'O don't ye be worrying about us, Mr. Bilbo, we're all fine,' replied Hamfast.

'Still, please send her my apologies as I know your youngest son just stopped getting his days and nights mixed up recently,' Bilbo said again.

Hamfast nodded, 'I will, sir. Will there be anything else?'

'No, no,' said Bilbo, 'You just get yourself home and get some more sleep if you can.'

'Yes, sir,' said Hamfast, 'Well, good night, Mr. Bilbo, to ye and yers – what's left of it anyway.'

'Goodnight, be careful as you go down now,' replied Bilbo before shutting the door, then opened it again as he thought of something else, 'If you would not mind, keep an eye on Gandalf's cart after you arrive here tomorrow morning.'

'Aye, Mr. Bilbo, I will!' promised Hamfast.

'All right, thank you and goodnight,' Bilbo said, this time locking the door back after he shut it. Looking at his guest and family he said, 'Let's go to bed, shall we?'

* * *

Even with the promise Bilbo obtained from Hamfast Gamgee, Gandalf was up before the Sun sitting outside to enjoy a smoke as he kept watch to make sure that no prying hands belonging to over-curious young hobbits found their way into the back of his cart. He was just tamping out his pipe as Hamfast and Sam made their way up through the gate to begin their work for the day. 

Upon seeing the wizard, Sam stood with his mouth wide open, and he remained that way for several moments until Hamfast tapped him on the head. 'Come along now, Samwise, and close yer mouth. Wees have plenty enough work to do without ye standing there attracting flies with yer mouth all apage.' He looked at Gandalf, 'Good morning, Mr. Gandalf. Do ye still want me to keep an eye out for yer cart?'

'Good morning to you too, Master Hamfast, Master Samwise.' Gandalf nodded to each as he spoke. 'No, thank you; I'll be moving it momentarily so that some rascal doesn't get it in his head to pilfer my fireworks.'

'Do ye really have fireworks with ye, Mr. Gandalf, sir?' Sam asked, unable to stop himself.

Hamfast had walked on, stopping when he realized that his son was not with him, and when he heard Sam ask his question, 'Samwise, come along now and quit yer botherin' Mr. Gandalf!' Sam scurried to catch up with his father.

'I do indeed, Master Samwise,' Gandalf called after the hobbit lad, laughing at Sam when he jumped in happiness as soon as Hamfast's back was turned to him. Gandalf laughed long and hard until he felt a twinge in his side, and he had to wipe away a tear or two of mirth away. Yes, indeed he loved his time among hobbits, especially the young ones who were always curious enough to seek out mischief whenever he came calling to Hobbiton.

Rising from the stoop, Gandalf whistled for his horse who appeared a moment later and stood still long enough for the wizard to reattach the harness. Within moments, he had the cart moved to where it was out of sight, on the other side of the small stable where Bilbo kept his own pony. After turning his horse loose in a nearby paddock, Gandalf went again back up the Hill, re-entering Bag End to discover that someone had arisen, and was cooking a first breakfast that promised to be a hearty one by the smell of it.

As he came close to the kitchen Gandalf smiled upon hearing the young voice of Frodo Baggins chattering away, asking questions. He waited just outside the door as to see whose voice would be answering the young hobbit. It was not entirely to his surprise that he next heard Primula's voice attempting to answer her son's questions regarding his hat and staff.

'Mama, if he really is Gandalf the Grey, then where was his pointy hat and his staff?' asked Frodo in between bites of the bread and jam designed to tie him over until his mother could finish with their real breakfast. The young hobbit had spent the entire night (at least until he fell asleep again) trying to figure out why he had seen a tall stranger dressed in grey in Bilbo's kitchen, a stranger who claimed to be the famous wizard Gandalf did not have his staff or the pointy blue hat that marked him as a wizard!

After hearing an exasperated sigh from the lad's mother he stepped inside of the kitchen, 'I did not have my hat or staff, Frodo Baggins, because I had left them laying beside Bilbo's door, as is my custom to do so when I come calling at Bag End.' He nodded a greeting to Primula before going to sit down at the table awkwardly, determined to enjoy a cup of tea as Frodo continue to stare at him.

'Frodo,' came Primula's voice, 'it is impolite to stare at other people. Now stop.'

Frodo returned his attention to his bread and jam, only half-heartedly picking at it now, and Gandalf smiled as he sipped his tea, saying, 'Why do you not ask me some of the other questions you were asking your mother just now. You may find me somewhat more knowledgeable about the subject of wizards.'

And that was all the invitation Frodo needed as he began an onslaught of questions that did not end until after Bilbo had made his way to the table, and had greeted his old friend before setting into the food that Primula had prepared onto the table. Primula spoke not a word to Bilbo, instead her eyes looked rather cold whenever they fell onto him, and after she excused herself to take a tray to Drogo, Gandalf invited Bilbo to step outside with him for a smoke.

Sensing what Gandalf wanted, Bilbo turned to Frodo, 'Why don't you go practice the letters and words I showed you yesterday? I'll be along in a few minutes to help you.'

'You're not leaving, are you, Gandalf?' Frodo asked suddenly.

'No, I'm not, at least not for some days,' he replied, 'In any case, I shall be staying through your uncle's birthday, for I have a special surprise planned for it.'

'You're staying for our birthday?' Frodo said excitedly before Bilbo hurried him along.

Gandalf seemed puzzled at the wording the Frodo's question, '_Our_ birthday?'

Bilbo nodded, 'You see, Frodo was born on the twenty-second of September as well, and in three days he turns twelve.'

'And you will turn ninety if I am not very much mistaken,' Gandalf said as they stepped outside of Bag End.

Bilbo sighed, 'You are not.'

They had walked around back towards the garden that was in the height of its bloom, and the flowers were opening to release sweet scented into the morning air as they both settled down on a stone bench. Hamfast, upon seeing them coming, had picked up his tools and moved to another part of the garden to accord them some privacy. Sam was still nearby, however, trimming the grass, but he was let be by his father, as he was not close enough to overhear whatever the two friends had to say to one another.

'Does it distress you to speak of your age, my friend?' Gandalf asked.

Bilbo was seated turned away from him on the bench, so the wizard did not see Bilbo's hand absently go up to his weskit pocket and reach inside to caress something. 'It does not bother me as much as the fact I don't actually look it.' The hobbit sighed again. 'My father was eighty when he died, and when I close my eyes, I can still remember how he looked when he died. Gandalf, he looked so much older, so much more worn out than I do, and here I am nearly at ninety!'

Somewhere in their conversation, Gandalf had produced his pipe and was now casually blowing smoke before he said thoughtfully, 'Perhaps, dear friend, you have only inherited the longevity of your grandfather Gerontius Took. As I seem to recall, he was of one hundred and thirty years of age when he passed away.'

'If that is so, then his longevity bypassed my mother all together to reach me as she was two and eighty when she died, looking as old and worn out as my father did when he died!' Bilbo replied with equal thought. 'And the Old Took did not exactly look like a very old tweenager when he died, and from some of the comments I've heard made, I know I really do look too young for my age.' He finally withdrew his hand from his pocket, deciding to also bring out his own pipe for a smoke. 'In any case, you did not wish to see me out here in the garden just so we could talk about my age or how old I look, did you?'

Gandalf puffed for a moment before answering, 'Indeed, I did not. I could not help but notice some tension between you and the Mistress Primula.'

Bilbo sighed and puffed on his own pipe for a moment, thinking of how to answer Gandalf, 'First of all, have you been curious as to why you have yet to meet Drogo, although he is here now living in Bag End?'

Gandalf shrugged, 'I merely assumed that he was recently ill when I noted Mistress Primula preparing a tray to take to their suite.'

'You assumed correctly,' Bilbo confirmed, 'Just this past week Drogo has begun to recover from a rather serious bout of the gaffer's friend.'

'I see.'

'It was during his illness, when he was most ill and possibly near death that I said something I should not have to Primula,' Bilbo sighed, 'I suggested that perhaps it would be better if Drogo were to succumb to his illness as it was less painful than the end he was otherwise facing.'

'And upon hearing you say such, Mistress Primula thought that you really have very little regard for Drogo if you could say such a thing,' Gandalf concluded, and Bilbo nodded. 'But tell me, what other end is Drogo facing that you would say that death from pneumonia was far less painful?'

'In May, I went to Buckland to visit Drogo's family where they lived in Brandy Hall among Primula's kin – she was a Brandybuck, you know, before she married Drogo. A day or so after I arrived Frodo told me of a conversation he had accidentally overheard his parents having, and it seemed that Drogo had had a cut on his arms that was weeks old and had not healed yet. Frodo asked me to convince his father to go to see a healer. Milo Gentlewinter, do you know him?' Bilbo asked and was surprised when the wizard nodded, 'Well the healer told Drogo that he was dying, that he had had only seen a few cases like Drogo's and both of the afflicted died within a year of his diagnoses.'

'Tell me exactly what Healer Gentlewinter diagnosed your nephew with, Bilbo,' Gandalf instructed and listened as the hobbit did indeed tell him everything he knew.

'Do you think that the Elves could help him, Gandalf?' Bilbo asked as he finished.

Gandalf gave his pipe a few more puffs before knocking out its contents and smothering it with his booted foot before stowing the pipe away to say, 'Elvish medicine is wise in the ways of healing wounds more than it is healing mortal sicknesses.'

Bilbo shrugged sadly, 'It's just as well as Drogo says he won't leave the Shire to travel to Rivendell. Lord Elrond would have to come to him to render him any aid – the stubborn fool!'

Gandalf furled his bushy eyebrows together in thought, 'Perhaps not, my friend. I have a rather fast way of sending a message to Lord Elrond, though it will take several days for his reply to reach us. Yes, I will write Elrond and see if he may offer your Drogo any sort of aid, if not a cure!' With that, the wizard left the hobbit alone in his garden, and Bilbo wondered if his friend would return or not.

* * *

**September 22, 1380 S.R. **

Gandalf had indeed returned several moments later, apologizing for his delay in returning as he explained he had to thwart several young hobbits' attempts to lift some of his fireworks. In his hands he carried a small bird, which he asked Bilbo to hold while he attached with a leather cord a small tubular case that held a short message to Lord Elrond. After he spoke in his own language to the bird, he gently released her, explaining to Bilbo that the bird would carry his message to Rivendell and to the Elven Lord.

But that had been three days ago, and thankfully Gandalf had managed to keep the bulk of his supply for tonight's display. This year Bilbo had opted for a rather quiet celebration with his family with the Gamgees being the only others (outside of Gandalf of course) to be invited to eat dinner at Bag End that would be prepared as well as catered by Widow Goodbody and her daughters.

The fireworks display, however, would not be a quiet affair as all of Hobbiton had been invited to lay their blankets out near the Party Tree and snuggle with their families as Gandalf had promised a display to rival that of the one he had last given at the Old Took's last birthday party. And snuggle the families of Hobbiton did, bringing with them their dinners packed away in baskets, pulling out treats as they awaited the promised extravagance, which would not start until the appearance of the Bagginses.

The wait seemed an eternity to the young hobbits but finally the door to Bag End opened, and Bilbo emerged, followed closely by Frodo (since it too was his birthday) along with both of Frodo's parents, and lastly the Gamgees (as Gandalf had excused himself early). They all made their way down the Hill and towards the Party Tree where seats had been reserved for them around the base of the tree.

"Happy birthday!' many of the hobbits yelled toward Bilbo and Frodo.

The family settled in, Drogo wrapped in a blanket as well as seated on one, with Primula snuggled in close to him on one side and Frodo on the other. Just as Bilbo settled himself close to Frodo, the first rocket soared into the sky, bursting into a shower that rained jewel-colored flowers on the upturned hobbit heads. For the next half hour the hobbits "ooooo" and "aaaaahed" in delight as flowers, mountains, Elves, stars, dragons, and creatures from the earlier Ages of Middle-earth in a rainbow of colors lit the sky.

The night ended with the final boom of Gandalf's fireworks, but the memories did not stop there, for the next morning Bilbo found a piece of folded on which a short poem was written:

_Fireworks, shiny bright _

_Fill the sky with lots of light  
Gandalf brings them on some years. _

_And we know there's naught to fear… _

Sam Gamgee

September 22, 1380

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**Author's Note: **Special thanks to my friend KaraB for Sam's poem "Gandalf's Fireworks" that was used in this chapter!

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P.S. I don't know why but I cannot get "Sam's poem" to stay properly formatted for this and for that I apologize! 


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